


Release

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Ready For The Siege [18]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Kink Negotiation, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Polyamory Negotiations, Sensory Deprivation, multiple cameos in chapter five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone was see-sawing into some kind of equilibrium. Sometimes, it didn't even get traumatic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pride

Pride was an odd thing.

Loki knew all about pride, of course. He knew he could choke on it if he let himself, he could swallow it down and let it burn beneath his skin. He also knew that sometimes, it was pleasant, that he could do _right,_ he could be _appreciated,_ and that all of his pain could actually hold some kind of meaning.

Much like he couldn't appreciate it years ago, Natasha would never like it if he told her that she was broken. And she wasn't broken, exactly. She was grieving. She was in pain. She was too caught up in herself and her history and her misery. She was too busy grinding herself down with the thousand _what ifs_ that would surely drive her mad.

James obviously loved her back, and wasn't the soulless machine that Steve feared he would be and Loki had wanted to see. If he was a machine, he shouldn't matter. But there was a soul in there somewhere, buried beneath the programming, hints of a person that perhaps Natasha truly could love. Even Loki could see it, as much as he didn't want to. But this definitely complicated things, meant that the alternate reality where he was married to Natasha could never become a reality here. They weren't SHIELD agents, they weren't in love, they didn't have a child and a family and everyone's regard. His title of trickster was derogatory here, not a treasured name that was appreciated.

Rage licked the recesses of his mind, and if it was succumb to rage or self pity, there truly was no contest as far as Loki was concerned.

So rage it was. He wasn't angry at Natasha. Not even James. No, it was the circumstances that had led them all here, the embattled, bitter and twisted journey that left them all tangled and frustrated, aching and empty at the end of the day.

Loki stomped around his suite like a tantruming child, and pursed his lips as he stalked into his office looking for something to do.

Maria Hill's attaché case taunted him from its place on his desk.

Well, then. If he couldn't be helpful to Natasha while angry, doing a little work on her behalf should burn it right out of him.

***

The door slid open noiselessly, which turned out to be a much better idea than smashing it open with a blast of green flame.

Children. Rows of beds, as Natasha had described the Red Room facilities, as he had seen in photographs of old fashioned orphanages from Steve's childhood. Most were empty, but a few were rumpled as if hastily made. There was still the faint trace of their powers, some of them with the familiar taste of magic in the air.

 _Children._ Loki thought he was going to choke on his anger, and he moved from the dormitory into the recreation area. Two were in the corner, playing with blocks, stacking them without touching them. They looked so solemn, as if this wasn't merely play but practice for a test, as if failing this would lead to punishment.

And he remembered that little girls didn't always survive punishment in the Red Room. And that this place was modeled on the Red Room.

They were experimenting on helpless _children,_ twisting them and changing everything about who they were supposed to be.

Rage simmered white hot in his veins, and he found himself instantly teleporting to Baron von Strucker's side. An older pair of children were with him, folders scattered across the desk. It was impossible to tell if he was looking at the children's files or was about to instruct them on their next target to murder. Loki couldn't stand it, and nearly missed the thread of magic present in the girl standing at full attention. But no, he caught the whiff of magic, saw the red glow begin to form in her palms as she raised her hands.

So he stopped time, then grasped the Baron's arm to pull him into the small bubble outside of active time. The Baron was confused, and fell to his feet when Loki struck him across the face, not even using his full force.

"You have experimented on _children,"_ Loki snarled.

"They are resilient," Baron von Strucker replied stiffly, getting to his feet. Loki was glad that he wasn't even going to bother hiding what he was doing. It would save him a lot of tedious questioning and torture

"Resilient," Loki echoed dubiously.

"The stone carries such power, and adults were turned inside out," the Baron told him, a pleading edge to his voice. "Too many good men died."

"So you took children." Loki pushed a thread of magic into the man's mind, sparking his terror and ratcheting it up a thousandfold. "Give me everything about your project."

The Baron quailed before Loki, but he took no pleasure out of this. _Children._ Human children, malleable and vulnerable, forced to take in cosmic power, their _spá_ irrevocably changed. He didn't stop to think of why it was so untenable, why his rage flowed fast and free as it hadn't in quite some time.

Power flowed through him, and it lifted the Baron off his feet, nearly choking him. "St-stop!"

"How many?" Loki raged. _"How many?!"_

"What? How many died? How many lived?" the Baron stammered, quaking.

Hearing that made Loki almost inarticulate with rage. He snarled, power coming off of him in waves, making the Baron choke on his fear.

"We have thirty one children now. Those two are the oldest, the only two that survived the first wave of experiments fourteen years ago."

"Fourteen years of this."

"We had no choice. With the Red Room gone, we needed operatives. Our agents couldn't be everywhere, couldn't break cover—"

"I want that list of agents, too," Loki purred, thinking of SHIELD. They would want that list.

"I can't—"

"Now, Baron," Loki murmured with quiet menace, making him shiver in fear. He smiled, knowing the effect that it had on others. Sharp teeth, glittering eyes, menace oozing out of every pore. "Can't is an ugly word I don't like to hear."

"You're going to kill me."

"Of course. It's simply a question of whether or not you suffer greatly before I do."

"They were nobodies. Nothing. Throwaway children. Nobody wanted them, and we turned them into miracles!"

Throwaway children. Unwanted. Nobody wanted them.

Loki roared in anger, making the Baron flinch. He suddenly understood why Natasha would devote her professional life for taking down organizations like this. She had been violated cruelly since childhood by them, and she wanted to put a stop to it. Loki could feel his irrational anger spike again, didn't bother to try to figure out the why of it the way Natasha would likely have wanted him to. It didn't matter why he was so angry, but the rage fueled his magic, made it sharper, stronger, crueler.

The Baron bowed and scraped to give him the files and information he wanted, loading everything onto a tablet, the plans and lists and schematics. The stone he had referenced wasn't in his possession, but Loki could easily find it. Humans shouldn't have such a powerful item in their hands, not if this was what they did with it.

No more reshaping children. No more altering them beyond reason. No more killing thousands of the Roma and homeless and mentally challenged and others deemed unfit in Hydra's eyes, the children they thought worth killing if they didn't survive the transformation.

_No more._

Once the Baron gave him whatever he wanted, Loki turned his body inside out. The girl with the magic powers was about to let out a burst of brilliant red energy, which was child's play for him to contain. She and the boy beside her were the oldest ones, from the first wave of experiments, and the Baron had mentioned their names. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, a pair of Romani twins that they had abducted from their mother as children. They had been ten, told that no one else wanted them because of the power they contained, and fourteen years later believed everything the Baron told them.

Well, it was a good thing there was a locked apartment in the lab floors.

It didn't take Loki very long to repair the damage done by Natasha to the locking mechanism and remove the glass walled cell in the living space. A simple set of spells did that as he collected the thirty one children. Though in the case of the Maximoff twins, _children_ was a bit of a misnomer. Hydra treated them all like idiot children, however, and the twins raged at him. Pietro tried to run faster than Loki's spells, and Wanda tried to repulse his magic with her own. She had baby's magic in comparison to his skill, and she bared her teeth as she screamed at him in fury. "I will kill you for this insult!"

Loki merely rolled his eyes and corralled the children through a portal into the empty apartment space. "None of you truly know how to use the potential you were given," he sneered at her. "The Baron isn't the kind benefactor he wanted you to believe." He smiled thinly at all of the children, then dropped a copy of the progress reports that the Baron had been about to peruse before Loki's arrival. Each of the children was called a subject and a number, discussed in entirely clinical terms and whether or not Hydra could use their skills in some manner. Wanda herself was described in less than flattering terms, and her skills were dismissed as insignificant to their schemes because she couldn't take them any further. The other children were younger, with even less defined skills than hers. A few didn't even seem to have discernible power at all, and the recommendation on those progress reports was to expose them again for a longer period of time, even at the risk of death, to try to trigger some kind of change.

"What is this?" Pietro asked.

The former portal was gone, and Loki opened a new one behind him. It led to a bland, featureless hallway not too far from Maria Hill's office.

"That is what the Baron really thought of all of you," Loki said, voice dripping with charm and sarcasm in equal measure. "What you do with that knowledge is up to you."

And with that pronouncement, he stepped backward, away from the children, and then let the portal seal shut in front of him.

Time to report to Maria Hill, as distasteful as that sounded.

She was on the computer with a stack of documents in front of her that she was frowning at, and looked up with a near snarl at being interrupted. "Thomas, I said I wasn't—" She cut herself off when she looked up and saw Loki. "You should make an appointment. Or contact me via usual channels when you have something to say."

"And deny myself the chance to see you in your usual environs?" Loki sneered. "I think not." He entered and shut the door behind him, sealing it with magic in case she changed her mind and had security called. They couldn't do serious damage, but he wasn't in the mood to be interrupted by low ranking agents. Anger still simmered in his veins. _Children._ Helpless abandoned children, or children stolen from their parents and lied to.

"What do you want?"

She didn't sound afraid of him at all. That really wouldn't do. But he didn't want her dead and didn't want her sounding some kind of alarm or having SHIELD agents hunting him. That was an annoyance he could live without.

"You did request my help with the late Baron von Strucker."

"Wait. _Late?"_

Depositing all of the Baron's information on her desk, Loki sat down imperiously in front of her and even put his feet up on her desk. Flashing her an insouciant grin, Loki folded his hands over his stomach. "Hardly a challenge. His power was in commanding and manipulating others, not in his own personal skill set."

Maria bit her tongue and perused the contents of what Loki gave her. Her brows furrowed as she went through the files, and she tapped her finger on the tablet and array of flash drives. "What's this, then?"

"Personnel files, records, that kind of thing. I don't care, but it may be useful to you."

"He could have had more information—"

"He was killing children," Loki told her icily. The temperature in the room actually dropped about ten degrees. "Natasha would have had her leeway, would she not?"

Silent for a moment, Maria contemplated him. "Then I suppose we know where your sensitive point would be," she mused.

Dammit.

"Natasha could never forgive those that brainwashed their agents. Apparently you don't approve of child murder." Well, put that way, Loki could definitely agree. "So you're not such a heartless egomaniac after all."

"I wouldn't go that far, Agent Hill," Loki said smoothly. The temperature around them slowly returned to normal.

"Thank you," she said quietly. She paused a moment. "We never discussed recompense."

Now Loki grinned at her, a death's head grin. "The pleasure was all mine on this one."

"The children referenced here—"

"Will need some sort of training and observation. None of your staff will do."

She blinked at his presumption. "Doctor Strange can be contacted—"

"If he deigns to respond. From what I gathered two years ago, his specialty was interdimensional travel and hunting demons. These children are definitely not demons."

"Are you proposing that _you_ teach them magic?"

Loki nearly winced. He hadn't thought that far ahead, to be perfectly honest, but he knew he couldn't leave them with SHIELD. The agency might have their best interests at heart, but the children would still have their abilities used for SHIELD's benefit and not necessarily their own. It rankled, though the children meant nothing to him, and he would rather they have enough control over their magic to dictate their own terms.

"I am hardly inexperienced," he said instead. "But if the idea of that influence troubles you—"

"Of course it does!"

"—then perhaps Queen Frigga of Asgard would be more amenable a teacher for your delicate sensibilities. She is quite well versed in all manner of magicks, even those thought lost on most realms of existence."

Maria seemed to relax a little. "Yes, actually. I think that's a wonderful idea."

"You have no need to answer to Director Fury on that?"

"I'm Deputy Director," Maria told him with a thin smile. "My decision making capacity is not insignificant. As well you know already."

"Perhaps," Loki allowed. He answered her smile with one of his own. "So did this meet your expectations when you offered me this job?"

"Exceeded them, actually." He managed not to visibly preen, though the grudgingly given praise swelled his pride indeed. Maria was not one to give unwarranted, effusive or excessive praise, just like Natasha was not. If she said someone did a good job, they truly had gone above and beyond her expectations.

"So perhaps this was not as ill-advised as you first thought it would be."

She gave a wry smile. "Not at all from where I'm sitting. I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Loki. You really helped us with this. Maybe we can continue the consulting?"

Loki gave her a genuine smile. "I can see the appeal. It would be acceptable to continue."

"I'll get everything processed through HR. I guess this makes me your handler as well."

Rising to his feet, Loki gave her a formal bow. "I certainly look forward to it."

***

Natasha didn't see Loki for nearly three days after he spanked her on a sawhorse as discipline for thinking too much. It wasn't for her grief, she knew that much about what he was trying to do. It was for being too far into her own pessimistic thoughts, for not reaching out to the others, for being nearly catatonic. It was a fine distinction, but one she was starting to realize in his absence. No one knew where he went, but didn't seem terribly concerned about it. "If he's not stalking off in a snit," Clint had reasoned, "I figure at this point he's not going to blow something up. He wants to stay on your good side, remember? Killing and maiming and brainwashing are not going to keep him there. He's good at following rules when it suits him."

 _I'll follow the rules while they still suit me,_ she always used to say. It had been a joke between her and Clint for years after she first transitioned to SHIELD. The first time she had said it, she had truly meant it. She hadn't been sure she could stay on the straight path, hadn't seen much point in using her skills to save people as Clint had suggested.

"I'm a firm believer that people are put on this Earth for a reason," he had said on the other side of her cell. "We all have a purpose, if we could just figure out what it is. I don't think you would have destroyed the people that hurt you just so you could hurt other people."

She had pretended not to listen, had pretended to ignore the chance he was offering. But inside, she had been considering, weighing, testing.

And it had clicked.

Perhaps it was finally starting to click for Loki.

The floaty feeling she had gotten from the spanking had surprised her. She didn't think she could ever let go enough to reach subspace, let alone so quickly. So either the entire situation with Yelena had stripped her down past her defenses and layers, or she had been aching so badly to let go of everything and it had been the perfect timing. Maybe it had been both.

James had worried a little bit when she explained what had happened the following morning. "I wouldn't be able to do that for you," he said quietly. "I don't want any of the old programming to come out."

"We'll need to make sure someone goes in there to strip them out."

"You might trust SHIELD," he told her, "but I don't. I agreed with Yelena on that count."

"But I can't do this for you."

"Then we should find someone who can."

This was something Natasha could _do._ This was something she could throw herself into, body and soul, and use to deflect any unpleasant memories resurfacing. Clint had liked the doctor that Tony hired on as permanent ancillary staff in the tower, even if they didn't battle anyone on a consistent basis. The doctor apparently was bankrolled by Stark Industries, with the understanding that she might be called on to address Avengers business. An internist wasn't a psychiatrist or therapist, but she might have referrals in mind.

Dr. Georgia Calderon had short straight black hair, olive skin, bright brown eyes ringed with kohl, a no nonsense demeanor. Natasha liked that immediately. She was dressed in business casual wear with a white lab coat embroidered with her name and the SI logo, and had sensible shoes on her feet instead of high heels. It didn't surprise Natasha at all that Dr. Calderon had a medical file on her already, but she appreciated being told that it was derived from her SHIELD record. "Tony Stark 'liberated' it in the off chance that I might be the first responder on the scene to attend your wounds." There was a faint accent to her voice, and Natasha thought perhaps she was Peruvian.

"And knowing him, I'm sure you memorized it."

"Only the pertinent aspects," the doctor replied crisply.

The physical didn't reveal much, just as Natasha knew it wouldn't. Dr. Calderon took her notes, kept her opinion to herself, didn't order any unnecessary tests. She liked that part; sometimes it had seemed like SHIELD techs simply wanted to update the biometric data they had on file and didn't bother to inform her of that.

"So how can I really help you?" Dr. Calderon said, leaning against the counter of the exam room. "You are in peak physical health, the scars noted on SHELD records are gone, and you certainly had no need to come in to see me."

"Friends died," Natasha said abruptly. Might as well just lay it out at once. Tony was paying for her silence, for all intents and purposes. "Others didn't, but I thought they did."

Dr. Calderon gave her a thoughtful look. "And you need someone trustworthy to talk to about all of it. Isn't there anyone at SHIELD you trust in that capacity?"

Natasha managed not to wince. "I'm not sure anymore. The pertinent parts of my file that you read," she began, a little uncertainly.

"I'm aware that memory modification, abuse, and drugs featured heavily in your early development, if that's what you're asking about."

"Sort of. I need to talk to someone familiar with that kind of thing."

"It was repeated, wasn't it?" Dr. Calderon asked, voice a little quieter. "And you don't want them to know about it."

Natasha looked up sharply, her face an unreadable mask. She didn't say anything, actually surprised by her guess.

"You're the last one to visit me, and the others all mentioned getting injured. Mr. Barton apparently saw the SHIELD medical team as well as myself. I suppose as a way to gauge for himself how trustworthy I am. Most of the others were very hesitant about speaking of the actual mission, though Thor mentioned bringing a comrade in arms back to the tower."

James. It had to be, because Thor hadn't been in Atlanta.

Remaining silent a little longer, Natasha contemplated her options. She probably _did_ need to speak with someone about the memories that Yelena had dragged to the surface when she had thought them buried. The SHIELD therapist from years ago hadn't done as thorough a job as they all had thought, so that was out as an option. And she could also use this as an opportunity to vet any candidates to treat James.

"Trust is difficult," Natasha said finally. "So is admitting weakness."

"With what you do for a living?" Dr. Calderon replied, shaking her head. "Needing a therapist isn't weakness. It's probably the sanest thing in this entire outfit."

"Why is that?"

"I think the average person would think that dressing up in spandex and fighting crime is something only for comic books and movies. Yet there you all are, doing it. It's difficult, strenuous and traumatizing work. You're not going to be able to take care of everyone else if you don't take care of yourself first."

The words resonated with her, and Natasha watched as Dr. Calderon took out her Starkphone to scroll through the contacts. "I've heard good things about these therapists, but you'll have to contact them and see who you feel like you click with." She wrote down four names and numbers, all based in Manhattan. "They've worked with Stark Industries before, and I'm sure the confidentiality clauses would all be similar."

Natasha took the slip of paper and looked at it for a long moment. She was hesitant, not just for herself, but for James. Her trust was hard won, his even more so. "I don't know—"

"If they're _not_ helpful, let me know. I don't want to refer people to them if they're full of shit," the doctor said with a slight smile.

Giving her a sliver of a smile in return, Natasha nodded. "I'll do that, then."

***

Loki sat in his office, surrounded by scrolls. It was easy to send a message to Frigga, telling her of the children in need of instruction. That was certainly something that would appeal to her, as she always used to complain that she didn't have enough students interested in the _seidr._ He wouldn't have to see her necessarily, but if he did...

Well, that was neither here nor there. It didn't matter what he thought of the matter, did it?

He was startled by a knock on his office door. Turning, he saw it was Natasha, dressed in a black tank top and jeans that fit like a second skin. Her feet were bare, and she stepped into his office as soon as he saw her.

"Thank you," she murmured. "For the other day."

Loki didn't know what prompted her to track him down, and he nodded at her. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he rose to his feet and wrapped her up in his arms. "You seem better," he murmured. When her arms encircled him, he shut his eyes and dropped his chin on top of her head, contentment washing over him.

"Settled, maybe," she replied. "I don't know if I can ever say I'm _better."_

Understanding the feeling, Loki stroked her back gently. "Then I am glad I could assist you in getting settled." Finally succumbing to impulse, Loki dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. "I am pleased that there is trust enough between us for such things."

Natasha laughed a little, tinged in bitterness. "Especially given how things started."

"Yes, precisely."

"And you're much more settled now than before," she observed.

Now that unsettled him, because he still had the Baron's children in mind. Settled? When there was still such unspeakable atrocities being perpetrated on innocent children? He might not be interested in the unnamable and unknowable innocents, but children he could bring himself to care for. Loki didn't bother to question the impulse.

"Are we still going to set up a sparring schedule with Barton? Steve would be useful to train with, if you're not still angry with him."

"And James will benefit," she replied.

Loki blew out a breath. "Because you love him."

"Because he was used as a weapon against his will," Natasha corrected, a tired note in her voice. Loki wondered why he could hear it now. Did she not care? Or had he gotten to know her so well that he could hear it?

"As you were."

"As I was. As sometimes I still am."

He stepped back and took in her sad expression. "No, Natasha. You are more than that."

"Sometimes it doesn't feel that way."

"Which is why it helped the other night."

Natasha licked her lips, appearing nervous, then she nodded. "I can't let go of my control often, you understand that. But... it's good to. To not have to worry about everyone's secrets, to not have to rein everything in so tightly."

Loki grasped her by the waist and lifted her so that he could mash his mouth against hers. "Of all the people here, I understand this. I _know_ that moment of which you speak. You brought me to that kind of peace yourself. The other night, I think I finally understood how to help you achieve it."

"I don't think James can do that for me," she said quietly. He got the feeling that she was unhappy to be admitting that to him. "I think he'd be too afraid of hurting me."

"And you know I would never truly hurt you."

"You proved it."

Ha. Something he could do that her precious Winter Soldier couldn't. Loki wanted to puff up his chest in pride, as inappropriate it might be.

Moving to her tip toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I may need that again. Most likely, really. I've learned to cope over the years by suppression and now that's mostly gone. I'm even considering therapy."

"Stark mentioned such a thing."

"It might be good for me," she murmured. "You help me lose control safely, and a good therapist can help teach me other ways to deal with things."

Loki trailed his fingers across the curve of her cheek. "How far would you wish to take it? Tools, as you introduced them to me?"

Natasha smiled, a wry quirk of her lips. "It doesn't always have to be about sex, you know."

"But where's the fun in _that?"_ he sneered.

Now she laughed outright. "I guess we'll have to see."

***  
***


	2. Connections

"Don't do this, Yelena," Natasha murmured. She was sitting on a metal folding chair, her hands bound in front of her, her ankles tied to the chair with hemp. She was practically naked, dressed only a lace-trimmed black slip. There weren't even panties. A bucket of cold water had been tossed at her, and she was shivering now, her nipples so taut and peaked they could have cut glass in the cold room.

Yelena dressed in an old fashioned white nightgown, tiny blue forget me nots printed on the fabric. The white eyelet lace trim at the hems made her seem so innocent, but Natasha could only see her back. Yelena's bright yellow hair was drawn back into twin braids on either side of her head, as if she was nothing more than a child's china doll. She was focused on whatever it was in front of her, and Natasha didn't know what it was. She didn't know why she was so afraid, why the chill continued to roll down her spine.

And then Yelena turned around. Her eyes were empty sockets, darkness pooling in them. Her lips were stretched back in a deathly grin, the kind seen on Greek statuary. Her throat was slit deeply, splashes of brilliant scarlet blood down the entire front of her nightgown.

In her hands were jumper cables. The other end was connected to a car battery, and she approached as if floating.

"You killed me," she said, her throat sounding full of grave dirt. "It's only fair I return the favor."

Natasha shot awake, nearly screaming.

James was instantly alert; he had been sitting in the chair in her bedroom instead of lying in the bed beside her. He had been there when she went to sleep. Had he gotten up so he could have better sight lines for all modes of entry into the room? It sounded like something that he might do, thinking his only job now was to protect her.

It wasn't as if she had anything else to offer him.

Swinging her feet around, she sat up in bed, back hunched a little. He instantly got up and moved to sit at her side, eyes curious but expression otherwise blank. Natasha looked at James, feeling almost a little lost. That sensation reminded her of Yelena, when she tried acting forceful and almost like Starkovsky. Was that part of the reason why it had been easier not to argue? But she was also tired and heartsick, any hope burned out of her.

Taking James' hand in hers, she traced the smooth plating on the back of it. "What do you want for your future, now that you'll have one?" Even SHIELD had no idea he was still alive, and she couldn't be opposed to that. They wouldn't kill him, but being locked away in the Cube or experimented on wasn't a better alternative.

"I don't know. I've followed orders so long, I don't know what else to do."

"Do you remember anything from before? When you were Bucky Barnes?"

He paused, eyes fixed on the metal hand clasped between them. "I don't like to. They made sure it would hurt me."

Leaning into him, she brought his hand to her mouth and gently kissed it. "What _do_ you remember? Don't recall it now, just the general idea of it. We have to see if it's worth it."

"They're my memories. My sister Becky, my Ma and Dad, and I think Steve, but he doesn't look the same. Skinny and small, bloody from a fight."

"That's him, all right," she said with a wry smile.

He relaxed a little. "I wasn't sure. I think it would be worth it to remember. I'm not him, but he seems like a nice guy."

"I think you're more like him than you think. I think that's what made me take notice and love you," she said softly.

James tightened his grip on her hand. "Love is dangerous, Natalia."

"It can be. Or it can save us."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm starting to see a therapist. Iron clad confidentiality clauses, on Stark's payroll. Someone with no conflicts, no ulterior motives. If it works out with her, maybe you could, too."

"But why?" he asked, baffled.

"So I stop blaming myself for Yelena's madness. So I stop feeling like there's something wrong with me. So I figure out who _I_ am again. I've broken myself apart for everyone else, and I don't even remember why anymore. I want to try to wipe out the red in my ledger, but what's the point? Why does it matter?"

"Because you save people," James said. "If you didn't, I wouldn't be here. Thousands or tens of thousands wouldn't be alive. I think if the Red Room never got their hands on you, that you would take care of others. I think _that_ is who you are."

Natasha pressed her lips to his cheek. "So we both have better opinions of each other than ourselves, hm?"

James laughed, unamused. "Seems so."

She took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged gently. "Do you know if you were the kind to follow directions before? Or is that new?"

"I think..." he began uncertainly, "I think I was good at it, but ones I didn't like, I wouldn't follow. Now, I've followed directions I don't like."

"Such as?"

"Some kill on sight orders," he replied easily.

"Anything I've asked you to do?"

"No! Never!"

"And if Loki asked you to do anything..."

"In or out of the bedroom?"

"Either," Natasha admitted. "He's around a lot. He hasn't got anywhere else to go. If I go back to Asgard, you could probably come with me, but he couldn't."

James paused to consider her words. "If he's like a CO? Maybe. Like Hydra or Department X? No. I won't be their patsy again."

Natasha nodded. "Then maybe we can figure something out, the three of us."

"Because he still loves you. And I love you." James cupped her face in his hand. "I'd do anything for you, anything. And I get the feeling he might, too."

"I'd never abuse that trust."

"I know. And I think he does, too."

Natasha leaned in to kiss him, soft and tender, tongue sliding across the seam in his lips. He parted them immediately, letting her invade his mouth with her tongue. "I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. For always."

He grinned, arms loose around her. "I love you, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Even when I didn't know who I was or where I was, I always knew _you_ were what I needed."

She kissed him again, slow and sweet. "And how do we add Loki to this? Or add you to what I had with him?"

"Carefully," James said quietly. "He'll run if you don't. He hangs the moon on your word, but he's got a sense of pride I don't. Department X made sure of that."

"I'm sorry," Natasha murmured.

"Wasn't your fault. Zola got me, is all. It was before you were born."

She threaded her hands through his hair and nipped at his lips. "You deserve so much more than what you've gotten, James."

"I got you now, don't I?" He brushed aside her tears. "None of that, Natalia. You and I, we don't get chances like this when the Red Room or Department X gets us. We've got this chance, and we're gonna take it, aren't we?"

He sounded so dependent on her, as if he had no will of his own. What have they done over the years that she hadn't been aware of? How much damage was there to fix?

Natasha tried to smile as she touched her forehead to his. "Of course we are."

***

Frigga arrived in the locked laboratory floor with three handmaidens skilled in _seidr_ to a small degree. The human children had baby magic at best, and these handmaidens were at least far enough along in their training that they could handle baby magic. The best of the mortal children was the brunette Romani girl that was nicknaming herself Scarlet Witch for her red colored magic bursts. She was easily picked out amongst the children by the fact that she was the oldest and most alert of all of them in the lab. A faint red aura surrounded her hands, and her twin brother looked poised to take flight.

Raising her hand in a peaceful gesture, Frigga looked at all of the children. Food and clothing had been left, but there had been no actual supervision so far. So of course the entire place was a mess, children were unwashed, and there were stains of dubious quality on the floor and walls, some of which actually were in the shape of a little hand.

"Oh, no, this simply will not do," she declared, looking around. "No one can learn in such a filthy environment. I see Loki simply cannot see to others' needs that well."

"What do you want from us?" Wanda asked, eyes narrowing as she took in the exquisite fabric and jewels of Frigga's gown.

"To teach you how to properly use your magic, of course," she replied. She turned and gestured for her handmaidens. "There are facilities here for cleansing, though they are not like ours. If it's simply too much bother, we can transport them all to the palace and simply do the cleanup and the lessons there."

One of the young children, perhaps six or seven in age, stared at Frigga. "You live in a palace."

"Yes. I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard. I have come because I heard you have need of being taught the finer points of using your magical abilities." She smiled in a fond kind of way. "If there is one thing I do enjoy, it is teaching others about the _seidr."_ She looked at Wanda with an appraising eye. "You could perhaps learn how to manipulate the _spá._ That seems to be an additional role your magic can take, difficult and very dangerous indeed."

"A spa is dangerous," she scoffed. The aura around her hands grew stronger, visible even to those unfamiliar with the _seidr._

"No, child," Frigga corrected. "The _spá._ involves the weave and flow of fate. To change one's fate, to alter their destiny... That is work that could destroy entire worlds."

Wanda appeared uncomfortable, and the other children looked at her in awe. "I'm not a world destroyer. It doesn't matter what that freak said, I'm not a destroyer."

Frigga raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. "Perhaps you need to learn to take a longer view of things." She turned to her handmaidens and nodded sharply. "Make your assessments so we may figure out how best to educate the children."

There was chaos and confusion as children were grasped and marched toward the bathroom. Any attempts at scrubbing were met with frustrated yells and tantrums from the very young ones. Even Wanda and Pietro looked ready to revolt. Frigga sighed and opened a portal into her training chambers, not far from her own secondary suite in the palace. One of her handmaidens remained behind to cleanse the lab using magic, muttering all the while about leaving wild children to their own devices.

"The first lesson," Frigga declared with a gimlet eye toward all thirty-one of the Baron's "children," "is _self-respect._ If you respect yourself as a creature of agency and willpower, ready to take on consequences, you will be able to perform magic properly."

"I respect myself just fine, and I do magic just fine," Wanda said, throwing a red energy blast in Frigga's general direction as a warning.

Frigga simply made a circular motion with her hands, sending the blast right back in Wanda's direction. She ducked, hands flying up, and the arc of red energy flew into the ceiling. Stone chips, plaster and paint rained down over her head.

"This is not 'just fine,'" Frigga corrected archly. "This is spiteful energies that can be better directed to other things. This is you not being able to control your magic to redirect, dissipate or transform it. This is you not understanding how things work and _why they work,_ so you cannot prepare for the consequences of your actions." She snapped her fingers and Wanda's clothing constricted, pinning her in place. "You may not enjoy it in the beginning, dear child, but when I'm done with you and your siblings, you will be a force to be reckoned with."

"They're not my siblings. Pietro is," Wanda retorted through grit teeth. Where was he, anyway?

Oh. Pinned to the wall with energies from one of Frigga's handmaidens, looking as though he wanted to rip her throat out with his teeth.

"We are all siblings in magic, Wanda," Frigga told her kindly. "It's a family. Responsibility. Hard sacrifices."

"The Baron said we were powerful. That we made other people do what we wanted."

"Are you powerful?" Frigga asked, a core of steel in her voice. She approached with a controlled walk, an air of calm about her. "Have you bested me? Bested my son? We're using baby magic, Wanda. A fraction of the control and power we could truly wield if pushed to the limits." Wanda gave her a mulish look, dark hair and dark eyes full of resentment. "The Baron had no genuine understanding of what he was doing, and he was full of lies. They have done more harm than good as far as your skills are concerned."

She pressed her lips unhappily as she contemplated Frigga, no doubt recalling the Baron's notes.

"I don't ask you to like me. Or be grateful. I do ask you to pay attention to your studies, to learn everything I set before you." Frigga turned and sliced the air with her left hand. "Guðvé, contact Loki and tell him that the children will remain on Asgard to be taught in my hall. It would be much easier to contain accidental spell damage that way. Those halls aren't protected well enough for the training."

"Yes, milady," Guðvé replied bowing.

Another slash of her hand, and the small portal connecting Asgard to Avengers Tower shut. Turning to smirk at Wanda's stunned silence, Frigga inclined her head slightly. "Still think you have nothing to learn from me?"

"Um... No, no I don't."

Frigga's smirk turned into a wide smile. "Good. Lessons begin now."

***

Steve was in the gym, attacking a punching bag as if his life depended on it. Tony had reinforced a number of them soon after he moved into the Tower, because ordinary bags never withstood the onslaught when Steve was truly in a mood. He seemed to be in one now, and Natasha thought that perhaps it was because James had yet to make a reappearance in the common areas.

"Where's Sif?" she asked from the doorway. She was in an ordinary Henley and jeans, admiring the play of his muscles.

What? She wasn't blind. He was a friend, but she could still appreciate the wonderful view.

"Off with Jane to do some shopping. I think they said Darcy's going to be graduating soon, and Jane wanted to get an appropriate present."

"And then she'll be working for Stark. How much do you want to bet that he'll eventually just give her a suite to stay in?"

Steve snorted and reached for a towel. "No bet. He might even make it part of her contract."

"What about Sam? Is he still holding out, or is he going to be moving in at some point?"

"His current lease is up in the fall. He'll move in then," Steve replied as he toweled off his face and neck of sweat.

Natasha nodded and then seemed uncertain for a moment. "We haven't restarted our poker night yet. It's been almost a month since I've been back. If you want, we could restart them. In my suite, if you prefer."

Her suite, where James spent all of his time. She even brought meals in to him.

He held her gaze and then blew out a breath. "Is he still sore at me?"

"I don't think he knows what to feel most of the time. There's a lot of Hydra and Department X programming still in there. He has some memories of the past, probably more than he thought that he'd have, but it might still be hard for you."

"Because I keep thinking of him as Bucky."

"Right."

"Bucky was different when I rescued him," Steve said quietly. "He wasn't the same fella I knew before the war. War changes people, I know that. And he's been stuck in that war same as I have, just in a different way."

"Steve..."

"I had time to think, Tasha," Steve interrupted. He reached out and touched her arm. "I know you haven't avoided me on purpose, but I've noticed how you've been gone a lot."

"I'm starting therapy," Natasha blurted. "I don't hate you. I just... Yelena knocked a lot of things loose in my head that I thought had been locked down tight."

The relief in Steve's expression was ludicrous, and he pulled her in for a tight, desperate embrace. "I thought I lost you as a friend, too. That you were just being nice because Sif was there, and you really didn't want to talk to me anymore. Bad enough I lost him so many times, but if I lost any of you now..."

Natasha returned his hug as tightly as he gave it before pulling back a little. "You're family, Steve. Stupid sometimes, but I know you didn't intend to do harm."

"But I still did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you still did. He was frozen between missions, Steve. Locking him up in a small space, even if it has glass walls, is still going to hurt."

Steve pressed his lips together unhappily, but he nodded. "I didn't see it that way. He looked right at me, Tasha. _Right at me,_ looking like he didn't know me. Like I was a stranger, like he was going to kill me. If he could do that to me, when he should know me... I couldn't let him do the same to you or Clint or Bruce or even Tony."

"Even Tony," Natasha echoed with a smirk.

He laughed, a little embarrassed. "The man and his ego. Reminds me of Howard. And Howard always seemed to come out of things okay."

"I'm not going to disagree with you on that one," Natasha replied, smirk still in place. "I think he's starting to remember. He has flashes of his past sometimes. I don't trigger that too much since he didn't know me then, though, so it's not always happening. I don't want you to expect more than what he can give."

"I really don't," Steve told her. He looked at her earnestly – did he really have another look? – and clasped her hands in his. "I want to know he's okay. I know now that he's not going to hurt everyone if he's loose, but that's probably you taking control."

"Not really."

Steve clearly didn't believe her, and opened his mouth to speak. Natasha cut him off. "The kills he made in the past were because of programming. He does what the mission parameters call for and what his personal safety requires. No more, no less. And if maintaining his personal safety would compromise the mission, he is to disregard his personal safety."

Steve looked horrified. "Bucky matters!"

"I know," Natasha told him in a quiet voice. "He's always mattered to me. But he was the Asset. Or the American. Or the Winter Soldier. He didn't have a name. He didn't have an identity. He wasn't meant to, Steve. That's why I don't want you getting your hopes up. He's James now, at least. There's more there than a blank slate, and maybe he'll get some of his life back. But he doesn't _want_ anything, he can't even try to imagine a future since it was never something he was supposed to consider."

"You love him."

"Yes." More than she had loved Yelena, more than she cared about Loki. That sounded rather awful in her head, so she didn't say it aloud.

He gave her a sad smile. "At least he's got you."

Natasha grasped Steve's hand on impulse. "Come with me."

It wasn't too far to her suite, and Natasha brought Steve inside. James was sitting on the couch watching TV with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, dressed in nothing but a ratty T shirt and loose sweatpants. He was laughing as he reached for another handful of popcorn. "Natalia?" he began without even looking at the doorway. "This is so _awful._ I see why the thing's so popular now, I shouldn't have doubted—" His voice trailed off as he turned and saw Steve with Natasha just inside the entrance to the suite.

"Hey, Buck," Steve said with a somewhat wilted smile. Natasha thought he rather looked like a kicked puppy that expected to be kicked again. "Think we could talk?"

"For?" James prompted, suspicion in his tone.

"To get to know each other again."

Natasha relaxed and gave Steve a push closer. That was absolutely the right thing to say, and she probably shouldn't have doubted him. It was that earnestness he carried around himself, though. It was easy to mistake it for unreasonable stubbornness.

James took in Natasha's encouraging smile and sighed. "Suppose that's all right, then," he said, the old Brooklyn accent coloring his voice. "You ever watch this trash TV stuff?"

"Real Housewives?" Steve asked, taking a look at what he was watching. "Popular, but it makes me feel a little... slimy, somehow, while watching it. I can't help but remember how hard we all had it as kids, scrounging for something to eat, trying to afford my asthma cigarettes."

"I always had a spare for ya," James retorted. He stopped as soon as he realized what he said, and looked at Steve in surprise. "Huh. I guess I do remember you."

Steve flashed him a wide, brilliant grin. Natasha couldn't help but grin at her boys, and she plopped down on the armchair catty corner from the two of them on her couch.

"The other thing you had on," James replied casually, side eyeing Steve, "didn't look right. I remember that now. Colors were different. Stripes were off."

He laughed out loud in response to that. "Yeah. The original suit's considered vintage, and it's in the Smithsonian museum. I had to get a new one when I woke up."

"You woke up?" James asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'd crashed a plane into ice to keep a bomb from destroying New York. Turns out it didn't kill me, it only froze me."

"Well, that's just stupid on you, then," James huffed. "Freezing's no fun."

"I know. And I never did get a chance to dance with Peggy."

James frowned, remembering something. "The dame with the red dress. Only had eyes for you."

"Yeah." Steve had a soppy grin on his face, remembering Peggy. "She's older now, Alzheimer's. I visited her a few times before, and she doesn't always remember me. She lived a full life, though. Did good in the SSR and then founding SHIELD."

"So you're left alone now."

"Um..."

Seeing Steve's awkward expression, James started laughing out loud. "No kidding? Really?"

"Sif's swell. She's Asgardian, fights amazingly well. She's done front lines, cavalry... She works a sword and shield like a master."

"Because she _is_ a master," Natasha said, leaning forward and snagging the popcorn bowl from James' lap. "I've trained with her while I was on Asgard."

"Okay, that's a story, Natalia."

"Of course, James," she said sweetly, popping a few pieces into her mouth. "But you make nice with Steve, and maybe we can all spar together when she gets back."

He sat up at alert at that. "That would be so much better than watching all the garbage that passes for culture nowadays."

"We can visit Lincoln Center and Museum Mile later," Natasha promised.

"You'll love Cooper Union and all of downtown," Steve added.

James looked thoughtful, then glanced down at his clothes. "Not in these threads."

Natasha and Steve exchanged amused glances. "You do have other clothes," Natasha reminded him pointedly.

"If you don't like 'em, I've got a platinum credit card I never use," Steve added. "This is as good a reason to start using it as any I can think of."

"Don't go spending that on me," James said, shaking his head. "You don't gotta pay me back for everything I bought you growing up."

Steve frowned; apparently that hadn't been his thought process at all. "Naw, I figure you don't have any bank accounts or credit lines set up yet, since you don't officially exist. I doubt Hydra or Department X would've done that for you."

He shook his head. "They gave me whatever I required for a mission."

"There are suits with Kevlar woven into them," Natasha announced. "I'd love to see the two of you dressed up in full suits. And there's nothing wrong with what you have in the closet."

"Didn't see much point after a while if I'm sitting here doing nothing," he admitted, shrugging.

"Then let's not do nothing," Steve suggested. "I was in the gym when Tasha found me, and I was hitting a punching bag. Why not do that until Sif's back? I never could go actual rounds with you back in the day."

"Too busy getting your ass handed to you by every street punk in Brooklyn."

Steve grinned at James' mutter. "Yeah. Yeah, I did," he replied, sounding rather proud of himself. Natasha repressed the urge to ruffle his hair, even if he had the appearance of an overeager puppy. "They were bullies, though."

"They're _always_ bullies," James said with a sigh and roll of his eyes. "The world is full of 'em. Hell, I suppose I even counted as one when not on ice."

The smile slipped from Steve's lips. "Not if you weren't in control."

James shrugged. "But that's not what people see, is it? They're going to see my face and this arm, and they're going to match it up to whispers. They're going to know what I was, they're going to think it's all I am."

"That's not what you are. Who you are," Steve insisted.

"Yeah? Well, who am I?" James challenged angrily.

Steve paused and looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't know, exactly. But isn't that the point? To figure out who you are now? To see what the war left behind? Those politicians blow smoke, they don't know what fighting really is. They don't know what we've gone through. I don't care what they're going to say. I care what _you're_ going to say. Or do."

"Why?"

"Yeah, I think my friend's in there. I think you're a better man than you realize. Why else would they have to wipe you clean between missions?" James froze, his gaze shooting to Natasha. She remained very still, not even chewing the popcorn in her mouth.

Steve sighed and thwapped James on the shoulder. It was his flesh and bone one, not his metal one, and James shifted his fearful gaze back to Steve. "They had to erase _you,_ all of you, because the real you would never kill innocents, never follow a bullshit order just because it was given. If any of you was left, you wouldn't have worked for them. You would've fought them, you would've won, and then there would be no Hydra or Department X cell left."

James started breathing rapidly as Steve spoke, and out of concern, Steve touched his arm. "I... I did. Fight them. I remember now. Seizing a scientist by the throat and throwing him across the room. Killing another one with this arm," he said, raising the metal arm.

Shivers wracked his body, and Natasha put aside the bowl of popcorn to sit at his side. She caught his metallic hand in both of her hands and raised it to her lips. _"Жизнь моя,"_ she whispered. _My life._

He shivered and looked up at her with a dazed expression. "The procedure already started," he repeated dully.

Natasha dropped his hand into her lap and stroked his face. "It brought you to me."

"It took me away from everyone else."

"Yes, it did," she acknowledged softly. "But also let you live long enough to come back."

"They can't—" His voice choked off and his eyes closed. "Who's even left?"

"Becky had kids, if you want to meet 'em at some point. And there's me," Steve said gently. "I'm still here. I'll always be here."

"Because you're so goddamn stupid sometimes, Steve," James snapped.

Steve grinned, though, and bumped his shoulder. "Only when you weren't."

James glared at him. "This isn't funny."

"No, it's not. But we'll get through it. They got a name for shell shock now. So we'll take the okay moments and get through the not-okay moments."

"Why?" James asked, frowning. There was the faintest thread of self pity in his voice.

"'Cause you're my best friend. You're family. You were always there for me. Why wouldn't I be here now for you?" Steve asked. He threw an arm around James' shoulders and pulled him in tight for a hug. "I'm not going anywhere. You know Tasha isn't. You're stuck with us."

James gathered them both in for a tight hug, relief in every line of his body.

***  
***


	3. Arranging Playtime

Feeling out of sorts and with nothing to do, Loki roamed the hallways of Avengers Tower. Sam was farther along the mend now, back at work at the VA. Loki could always join him, and the others there accepted his presence there. But he didn't want to hear their awful stories and feel misery clawing at his throat. He didn't want to feel sorry for himself or anyone else. He didn't want to open a vein and let out his own woes, even if they could understand it. Sam deserved better than a half hearted attempt to attend. He had treated Loki fairly from the start, and earned Loki's respect from their time together in Japan.

No, he would have to find something else to keep him busy when magic didn't do the trick.

Most of the others sorted out into activities that kept them busy. Shopping or research or the like, and he didn't have a consuming project at the moment. He supposed he could try to develop better shielding spells, but there really was no need for it on this realm. The magical practitioners were so infantile that the current spells were more than adequate. Frigga had taken the Baron's children, so he didn't have that as an occasional distraction either.

Wait, there was a familiar voice. Soft, as if not wanting to be overheard.

So of course Loki wanted to overhear, and he crept closer.

"This is... separate," Natasha murmured quietly.

That was rather intriguing, and Loki extended his sense as best as he could without using magic. He didn't know if she would be able to sense its use, but there was no point in risking it.

"Because he matters that much to you, and I can't do this for you," James replied, sounding sad.

"James..."

"No, I can't. I can't be like Department X."

"This isn't the same thing, James. They forced us to do all kinds of things, _be_ all kinds of things." There was the sound of rustling, as if she was sliding closer to him. It was likely all above board; they were in the common areas, and Natasha was not an exhibitionist. A persona might be, but _she_ wasn't.

"I don't understand this, and I don't like it."

Natasha let out a soft sigh. "I'm wound tight," she said quietly. "Your secrets, my secrets, other peoples' secrets, it doesn't matter. And our reunion, being with Yelena, it uncovered a lot of memories I thought were buried or didn't realize were still there. I'm not as put together as I look. I don't feel like myself. Not that I'm any of my covers, but I don't feel settled the way I was when I thought I could handle Yelena."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Natasha murmured, and then there was the sound of a soft kiss. "Don't fault yourself for what happened. Zola and his men did whatever it was they did. Department X did more. And even Yelena, with all the triggers she wouldn't let me undo... None of this is your fault."

"If I'm not at fault, then neither are you," James pointed out.

Natasha's silence was pained, and proof positive that she couldn’t agree. _Ah, Natasha,_ Loki wanted to sigh. _When will you ever let go of your guilt?_

"When I was with Loki that night, it wasn't the pain I wanted or needed. But it was grounding. It brought me back to myself, to my body. That's what I needed. To not think, to only feel, and to know it was happening now, and to _me,_ and that I could let go of the control. But if it went too far, I could stop it if I needed to. I wouldn't be overwhelmed or used."

 _Yes,_ Loki wanted to say. Because that was exactly the feeling he had when with Natasha, and he ached so much without her.

"I'm sure there are other ways to connect me to the present, to my physical self, but I can't do service, I can't do roleplay. It's too similar to what every agency has ever done to me, even with my consent. It won't ground me. It won't help. I'm open to suggestions if spanking unnerves you, but I've even come up with a blank."

"It's sensation you need, right?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't have to be punishment. _That's_ what bothers me, Natalia. That he would punish you for being you, just like they did."

Loki could hear the pain in James' voice, the helplessness and hurt at what he must have seen over the years. James had been there, he knew what the Red Room had been capable of doing to the girls. Now he understood the opposition and hesitance.

And apparently so did Natasha. "I didn't see it from that point of view. So then I would just need to discuss other kinds of sensory play, and it wouldn't trouble you so much?"

"That would help, yes."

Another kiss, lingering and sounding more than comforting. Loki wanted to growl or hit something, but Natasha loved this man. He knew that she didn't love him. She needed him, she tolerated him, she cared for him on some level. But it wasn't the same, and it burned at his gut that he couldn't command her affections.

Well, he _could,_ but it wouldn't be real, and he didn't want a facsimile of her love.

He stalked off before he could be caught. Sensory play, hm? That he could definitely do.

***

Steve was a little nervous, but had put on a nice outfit before knocking on the door to the suite that Sif was staying in. He'd been inside of it already, and had been appreciative of all the sumptuous gold and mahogany accents in its décor, the vast landscape paintings and priceless antiques that Pepper had chosen to make Sif feel more at home. He'd been more appreciative of the deeply plush carpeting and the butter soft leather furniture that he could sink into. It had also been very comfortable when visiting Sif and they had kissed and petted, when he had come _this close_ to actually sleeping with her before he remembered to ask if there were certain precautions he would have to take to prevent pregnancy. The look on Sif's face had been a mixture of comical and horrified, which cooled both of them down.

The conversation had been informative, though. Physiology was similar enough that there obviously wouldn't be incompatibility. They weren't sure about the genetics of it, given that Asgardian women didn't have monthly menstrual cycles but seasonal breeding times, and Sif had always studiously avoided women in breeding cycles to avoid triggering hers.

In other words, they didn't know if Steve could get her pregnant. And he wasn't about to take that risk if she wasn't ready and willing.

He had felt somewhat awkward about buying condoms at the drugstore, in case someone got it in their head to take photos of Captain America and make jokes about what brand he picked, but there hadn't been a single comment at the register, thankfully. It was apparently nothing out of the ordinary for a drugstore employee to ring it up along with a few other random purchases late at night, so Steve was ready in case anything would happen. Which it _should,_ because they both had every intention of it the other night.

Sif was dressed in a slinky black dress with a scoop neckline that hit right above the knee. There was little embellishment to it, but there was no need for it. Her knee high black boots also had daggers hidden in them, and her hair was pulled back with a number of sharp pins. She smiled at Steve and playfully shut his open mouth. "I gather you approve of my dress."

"Oh, yes," he replied, nodding. "Um... Were you more in the mood for 1940's theme or 1950's Broadway theme?" he asked, extending his arm in a gallant manner.

"Is there a difference?" she asked. "I'm not as aware enough of the differences in your culture."

"The 1940's is the time I was away in the war. A few cocktail bars and lounges here in Midtown have that aesthetic going. As for the fifties... I missed that experience. But I've been to Ellen's Stardust Diner once before and it seemed kinda fun. A lot of the wait staff sing and dance, too."

"Dinner _and_ a show?" Sif teased, still grinning at him. "I'm impressed."

"Well, good," he replied with a smile of his own. "Only the best for you."

They opted for the diner rather than any of the more upscale clubs and lounges for dinner, since it seemed like a better fit. They weren't having dinner before or after going to the theater, and most of the lounges were too upscale. As much as Steve could change his outfit to try to fit in, he didn't feel comfortable in that kind of setting. He liked squeezing in next to Sif in a booth, ordering a platter with fries and cole slaw, listening to the wait staff singing Broadway tunes and pop songs, then deciding he wanted to walk with Sif in the middle of Times Square just to see it all lit up in its gaudy glory late at night. She laughed at his lame jokes and linked her fingers through his, and pointed out how much she felt at home walking beneath the skyscrapers that blotted out the sky.

He spun her around for a kiss as they moved beyond the bright lights of the theater district, down a side street that was dark and empty. Prime pickpocketing spot, really, but neither of them cared about that kind of thing. It was perfect to press his mouth against hers, to wind his arms around her and hold her close. Dance clubs didn't fit him, some of the plays on Broadway he didn't care to see again, and he really only wanted to spend time with Sif. They didn't need anything fancy for that, and her lips danced against his as she wound her arms around him as well.

"My suite?" he asked, lips still pressed against hers.

"Absolutely."

Steve felt like a teenager as they went up the back elevator to Avengers Tower, which was utterly ridiculous, and he kept laughing as if he was drunk. The beers with dinner hadn't affected Sif either, but the anticipation made her laugh every time Steve did. He had Jarvis play the jazz mix he liked in the background, and then simply kissed Sif. He enjoyed that, the way the touch of her lips and tongue on his could set a sizzle into his bloodstream. _That_ made him feel buzzed as if he had alcohol, as if he had oxygen deprivation.

There were worse things in the world than being drunk on Sif.

She seemed just as taken with him, which was flattering; Steve might know logically that he was just as good a fella as anyone else, but he still thought of himself as the kid from Brooklyn that constantly had to prove he was worthy. He was always trying to do the right thing, because it never felt _enough._ But with Sif he felt good enough. He felt as if he was every bit the worthy warrior he wanted to be, that he could make everyone proud.

They didn't talk, but somehow there was an unspoken consensus to start undoing clothes. He walked her backward toward his bedroom, a sprawling, open space that he found soothing. It wasn't so busy as Sif's suite, as his was all cream colored walls and sparse furnishings that were sturdy and serviceable. He was more about _doing_ than simply sitting in the suite, and it hadn't really occurred to him until recently that he should think about _doing_ in the suite as well.

Sif didn't care, and merely pulled off the last of his clothing. "I know we talked of risk and offspring last time," she said, moving to kiss his jaw. Grasping his burgeoning cock in hand, she gave him a saucy grin. "I find the risk worth taking."

"I, uh, I picked up condoms. So it's less risk." He disentangled himself to grab the box from his nightstand. "'S why I suggested here and not upstairs."

"Do show me how this invention works," Sif said, lips curling sensuously.

Funny how it didn't feel awkward with Sif, when he remembered feeling that way with one of the dancing girls on tour having to walk him through everything. His body hadn't felt like his own back then, though, and Hattie hadn't been someone he cared about in this way. It had been a quick tumble when he had thought he lost Peggy's respect, trying to figure out what he was missing. Hattie had seemed satisfied enough, but he had been disappointed. He didn't have the right partner, so that had to make the difference.

Steve lavished her skin with touches and kisses, revering her. Sif was hardly a passive participant either, touching him in turn and murmuring softly in Allspeak when particularly pleased with something. "Huh. What's that mean?"

"Continue," she said with a gasp and a smile. "As in, continue or I shall not be held responsible for my actions."

He caught the pronunciation after two more of her repetitions; he had always been good with languages, especially when motivated to pick it up. Pushing her onto her back on his wide bed, Steve straddled her legs and let his hands run across her torso. He urged her to teach him some useful Allspeak words and phrases, _beautiful_ and _more_ and _wonderful_ and _goddess,_ each one punctuated by strokes along her breasts and a kiss between them. Sif was content to play along for now, fingers twined in his hair, tugging when he tried to move away to ask for more words.

"Enough," she panted. "No more teasing. Put those inventions to good use."

"Still can't believe they don't got 'em in Asgard," he murmured as he took the condom she had snatched up to give him.

"We're not supposed to have such things as recreational sport." She ran her nails along his thighs, smirking when he shivered. "There are whispers, of course, but I hardly had acquaintances who would speak of such things with me."

"Hardly fair," Steve replied, ripping the packet open and rolling the condom onto his erect cock. 

"But we're here now. And should I return to Asgard, you would simply bring these with you when you visit me."

Steve gave her an almost giddy grin as he urged her legs apart. "Already planning for more?" he teased, nudging her entrance.

Sif reached down and pulled his body into her, sighing contentedly as he sank home. "Steve, you are not so easy to forget."

"Neither are you, Sif."

He moved slowly at first, until she literally growled at him and tried to tilt her hips up. Steve laughed and raised himself up on his hands, so she ran her nails down his chest. "You are being a frightful tease," she complained.

"Draws out the fun," he said.

"I intend to use that entire supply tonight, Steve," Sif declared, reaching up and grasping the back of his neck. She pulled, and he let his elbows unlock so he could be pulled down on top of her. They kissed, mouths open and needy, and Sif grabbed his ass and locked her ankles around his waist. "You're mine, are you not?" she asked against his mouth.

"Yeah," he replied, thrusting a little harder into her. "Yeah, I am."

"And I am yours. I am no gentle maiden, fragile to the touch."

"Don't I know it," Steve replied, giving her a goofy grin.

"So stop treating me as such."

"You're a lady." He kissed her nose. "And I wanna take it slow the first time." He kissed one cheek. "Before it gets too hard the next time." Now the other cheek. "Or the next." Now her forehead. "'Cause yeah, that plan? To use up the box? I like that plan."

Sif laughed. "I have my moments as a strategist."

"Talk like that? So hot," Steve murmured, then leaned in to kiss her mouth. Her arms and legs were wrapped up tight around him, and he rested more or less on his elbows. One hand could grasp her hair if he wanted to, and in this tight position all his thrusts were shallow. She couldn't possibly be feeling much, which was likely why she complained.

Shifting his weight slightly, he ignored her pout when he stilled and reached behind him with one hand to pat her thigh. "Move those, I got an idea."

He repositioned her legs up against his chest once he rose up to his knees and wrapped one arm around her legs to lock them into place. Grinning, he used his other hand to lift her hips slightly so she rested on his thighs a little. Then he started to rock. She gasped, obviously feeling _that,_ and reached down to stroke his thighs. "Heya," he grunted a little, thrusting as deep as he could. "Touch your breasts?"

Sif's lips curled into a sensual smile. "You like them?"

"A lot," Steve admitted. He shifted his free hand to stroke her thighs. "And your legs. Gosh, your gams are just right, and when you move in the gym, I wanna just push you up against the mirrors and kiss you silly."

"So why don't you?" Sif asked, cupping her breasts and giving him a playful pout.

Steve laughed at her ridiculous expression and then bore down harder. Now she gasped and moaned, wiggling a little, and _right there,_ he nearly saw stars. "You like that? Me taking charge a little? Directing things?"

"You're a captain," Sif replied, voice breathless. Her eyes sparkled with desire. "I like that side of you very much."

"I'm close," Steve grunted. He moved his free hand to her clit, beginning to stroke it with enough pressure to get her to arch her back. "How close are you?"

"Not enough."

"Oh yeah, we're using that entire box," Steve grunted as he spilled into the condom, slowing down a little. He shot her a playful grin. "One thing about this serum? Short refractory period."

"Which means?"

"It won't take forever for me to do this again," Steve replied, continuing to rub her clit. She tightened around him, grinning in a pleased sort of way.

"I must say, Midgard does have some benefits Asgard can surely learn from."

Steve couldn't help but laugh again, and he grinned when Sif bucked against his hand and started to whine a little. He watched as she fell apart, entire body twisting beneath him as she came with a gasp and drawn out moan.

It was going to be a _fun_ evening.

***

Tony and Pepper returned from their latest junket with Lockheed Martin and Tony gleefully headed straight for Jane's lab while Pepper went up to their penthouse to start checking in on various messages at Stark Industries. "I got you an early Christmas present!" he chortled.

"I'm Jewish, Tony," Jane replied without even looking away from her computer screen, a pad of paper beside her already covered with half illegible scrawled numbers and formulae. "I don't do Christmas, I do Hanukah."

"Well, then, I got you a present to cover half those eight crazy nights."

Jane let out an aggrieved sigh and scribbled something on her pad. "These numbers just don't compute right, I really thought they would. Make them fit, and _that_ would be a good Hanukah present."

"What about a brand new satellite being launched with all sorts of fancy doodads and sensor arrays that you and Bruce designed?"

Her jaw dropped. "Wait. What? Really? _You did it?!"_

"I can be very persuasive," Tony preened, grinning at her. "That and getting a contract with them probably helped. Because you know, proprietary contracts and marketing and sharing of data and all that fun stuff. Pepper can bore you with the contractual details if you like. She's upstairs doing more boring paperwork. She _loves_ paperwork. I, on the other hand, like generating it if there are experiments involved."

"The data those arrays will gather will be _tremendous._ Plus the data streams I can get from Ketilve and the publically available archives..." Jane trailed off, an amazed smile on her face. "This is going to be _fabulous."_

"That's what I love about you, Foster," Tony chirped. "So appreciative of the finer things. Now, I did agree to do some PR stuff on their behalf. To sweeten the deal or some such."

"So?" Jane asked, not getting his point.

"Charity work. I know, I know, charity can be such a dirty thing. But this is for a good cause, and I think you'd actually like it."

Jane crossed her arms over her chest. "Just because I don't have to put together grant applications doesn't mean I like this," she said in a warning tone.

Tony extended his hands in a placating gesture. "No, no, this is a good thing, I promise! A STEM fundraiser for the NYC Board of Ed! And a generous donation from Lockheed Martin and SI, just to sweeten the deal. You know, get everyone's reputation a good, heaping feel good dose of publicity."

She leaned back in her chair and made a soft, exasperated noise. "Tony..."

"You know how City schools are, especially compared to the Island. We'll be doing good," he said in a wheedling tone.

"Is it just us?"

"I'm going to try to get all of us to go," Tony said, arms sweeping about to encompass the Tower. That would mean the Avengers, so Jane wouldn't necessarily be on her own in a room full of strangers expected to make nice and not talk astrophysics.

"If all of us go, I'll go," she said with an only partially frustrated sigh. "I suppose it would be nice to go out with Thor once in a while with a nice dinner."

"That's the spirit. I can have Pepper direct you to the places to go to get something to wear."

"How do you know I don't have anything to wear to this?" Jane asked suspiciously.

"I don't. But Pepper always gets a new dress and shoes for events, so I figured you might want to, too. I just throw on a suit and try not to get completely plastered," Tony said with a grin. "But sometimes getting plastered makes it easier to tolerate speeches."

Jane snickered and nodded. "I can see that working."

"As the survivor of many a press conference, I can tell you that alcohol makes everything better. But I didn't officially say that," Tony replied cheerfully.

Thor of course was delighted to be about to squire her about, as he put it, and found the idea of formal evening attire amusing. Sif had also been present in the common area, frowning at the movie they were watching. "I fail to see how this is meant to be romantic," she declared, seeing Jane staring at her in concern.

"Oh. I don't like those either. Romantic comedies usually aren't," Jane agreed. "They're actually kind of embarrassing, aren't they? I feel awful just watching someone in some of those situations, I don't find it funny at all."

"Exactly. I'm invited to this event as well?" Sif asked.

"Tony planned to invite everyone, and right now, everyone includes you," Jane told her, plopping down on the couch next to her. "Unless you'd rather not go?"

"Steve would likely wish to attend this, would he not?" Sif asked. Her lips curled into a soft smile at that statement, her feelings plainly evident.

"I think the two of you would look _wonderful_ together," Jane said, patting her arm.

"Boon companions," Thor agreed. "I am so pleased to know he appreciates your worth."

Sif's smile hinted at far more sensual thoughts than those she would be willing to share with Thor and Jane. "That he does, Thor."

***

Loki found Natasha and James in the gym together, doing some light hand to hand work. She was in just a sports bra and loose cut yoga pants, feet bare. James had a long sleeved T shirt and sweat pants, feet also bare. His hair had been pulled back into a ponytail at his nape, Natasha had hers coiled up on top of her head in a bun. His gut tightened at how seamlessly they worked, strike and parry, move and countermove, the fluidity between them proof positive that they indeed trained together once upon a time. They were more than aware of each others' bodies, of how they moved and generally fought. He could spar with her fairly well, and it would seem to be choreographed to outsiders, but he knew how hard he had to work in the moment to keep up with her. James wasn't winded in the slightest, and even had a little grin on his face. This was something he enjoyed, and Natasha's answering smile as she spun past him in a pirouette carried the weight of history and shared secrets.

He wouldn't have this. The utter trust and love and abandon that they had. This was what he wanted, what he had hoped to achieve, and James effortlessly reawakened it in her.

Loki mentally squared his shoulders. No point in weeping or gnashing his teeth. Natasha wouldn't appreciate it and it would only make him look weak. She could take him apart later, when she was settled further into her own skin, when she felt steady enough to break him to fibers and reweave him back together with peace along the threads. He needed it, he could feel the ache deep inside, the longing, the _need_ clawing at the back of his throat. He was glad that Frigga's handmaiden reported that she had taken the children. It was awful sounding, but he hadn't paid any attention to them or their needs recently. Jarvis did, perhaps. But now he didn't even need to pretend. Frigga had them, and she would teach them however and whatever she pleased, and it didn't matter anymore. The children were well cared for. Frigga was, above all else, a _mother._

Even of monsters such as him.

Natasha noticed him first. Perhaps it was the magical bond between them, the knowledge of where the other would be worked into their bodies. Her smile didn't falter, thank the Norns, and James didn't seem opposed to his presence.

"Come to spar?" he even asked Loki.

Shaking his head, Loki continued to walk further into the room. "I came to see how you were feeling, if you needed... _time_ with me."

Though she looked blank at his words, Natasha understood when he approached and placed his hand on her throat. "I don't know what you'd rather refer to it as," he said softly. "Or what we would call it without distressing your James." When Loki looked at him, he was very still, jaws grit tight, hands in fists at his sides. "He appears distressed."

"Loki..."

"Perhaps a demonstration is in order," Loki offered, voice as smooth as an oil slick. "You can assist me," he said with a magnanimous smile at James. "Then you can be sure my intentions are not to harm Natasha."

Reluctantly, he was dragged along in their wake. Perhaps Loki shouldn't have grinned so maniacally at Natasha's acceptance, at the lick of her lips when he offered having James help him with her. If she needed the occasional time to be helpless and grounded into her physical self, having James would make it more meaningful for her.

Proving to the soldier that he wasn't going to hurt her would go a long way in reinstating the deal they'd had. That was what he truly wanted, to be ground down and built back up, to be cradled and protected from even himself, even for a moment.

With James in mind, Loki led them to Natasha's suite. She merely lofted an eyebrow at him, but he smiled and made a grand sweeping gesture for her to enter the room. "It doesn't matter where we are for this demonstration, does it?" he asked.

"I suppose not. What are you planning?"

"Eager, are you?" Loki replied, pleased that he could hear the curiosity and eagerness in her voice. James looked confused, as if he didn't understand it. Then again, he had been an empty vessel for so long, he didn't know what it was to be so overwhelmed by _being_ that carving an empty place was a blessing.

"I want to see what you've got." Now her voice carried a playful challenge to it.

No, she wasn't broken. Despite everything, even with her own perception at being broken, she was gloriously whole and alive. She was anything but broken. She was the beauty of a stained glass window at sunrise, an intoxicating wholeness arising from the pieced together shards.

"Shall we begin, then?" Loki asked. "If so, repeat your safe words."

"Andorra to stop, cavern to slow down."

Loki's lips curled in pleasure at her automatic reply. She wasn't feeling lost and overwhelmed, so that meant they could truly play today. "Strip."

She shot him an arch look and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "I'm disappointed in you."

His hand shot out to grasp her chin tightly. "Orders are to be obeyed immediately and implicitly. I suppose you wish to be disciplined." Loki flicked his gaze to James, who looked affronted on her behalf. "Do be helpful, James," he commanded. "Strip her and then hold her in place."

"I'm not helping you do this," he protested, shaking his head.

When Natasha looked toward him to make a comment, Loki hissed for her to be silent. He had to establish _his_ dominance here, in this scene. Otherwise, it would never work and any chance of helping Natasha in the future would fail.

"If you aren't here to help participate, you may leave," Loki told him, voice hard and pitiless. "I have no time or patience for those of weak constitutions."

James bristled as he was meant to. "I'm not hurting Natasha."

"Who said anything about hurting her?" Loki asked archly.

Confused, James did as Loki asked. Natasha may have smiled and giggled at James, but there was time to correct her lack of deference. James ultimately held Natasha's wrists in his hands above her head, tightly enough to keep her in place but not tight enough to bruise. Natasha stood there, breasts jutting out proudly, that smile on her face that reminded him too much of how she smirked at him when pleased with herself.

So he took her sports bra and snapped her stomach with it.

She yelped in surprise but not actual pain. "Loki—"

"Count it," he snapped. "Five for not obeying, five for your poor attitude."

The smirk slid off of her lips and understanding flared in her eyes. "One."

He nodded and snapped the fabric again. She counted out the ten snaps dutifully, standing at attention. James was frowning, but not intervening yet. Good. Still in observation mode. Loki could work with that.

Blowing gently over her hypersensitive skin, Loki allowed himself a smirk at her sharply indrawn breath. "Ready to follow my direction?"

"Yes," Natasha said. There was no subservience in her tone, not like the night he spanked her, but she wasn't subtly challenging him, either. It would serve his purposes.

He blew over her stomach, then up to her breasts. Kneeling down, he blew gently over her thighs and knees. Natasha quivered, breath sighing in and out of her as she twisted away from his mouth, but she didn't pull away from James' grip. Loki chuckled and stroked her skin after blowing on it, occasionally shifting from the pads of his fingers to the fingernails. Her breath caught at the scratching, and she looked from Loki's bent head to James. Loki caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and noticed that James looked thoughtful, not afraid of the entire process.

Good, because it was time to start stretching a few boundaries.

Pulling back slightly, Loki smiled. He knew there was a touch of menace and deviousness in it, but neither person in front of him seemed frightened. Natasha wasn't slipping closer to subspace, but today wasn't about that. Today was actually more of a test, more to see if James could be on board with this. Loki didn't have any illusions about who ranked higher in Natasha's affections, and he wasn't about to enter a battle he couldn't win.

Unsheathing a knife he kept at the small of his back, Loki held it out in front of them both. "Hold her steady," he commanded James.

It was clear that his prior programming was still largely in place, as at first his hands tightened around her wrists. But then he seemed to realize what he was doing, and glared at Loki. "I won't help you hurt her!"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to do that, James," he said, a touch of derision in his tone. "If I was planning for blood play today, I would have put towels on the floor first."

Natasha had been silent, watching him with large eyes. She trusted him not to stab her. Amazing, given their history and that he was holding a knife that could do considerable damage to her. She didn't struggle against James, which he was finally starting to grasp. 

James blew out a breath. "But this stops if I think it's gone too far."

"This is the lady's time to submit, Sergeant Barnes. If you're interested in being submissive to me, you get a separate session. Only then do you get to decide when it's over."

He sucked in a breath, and Natasha smirked. Loki grinned at them both, feeling the power that he craved so much fill him. _Yes._ If he could have them _both..._

What was he thinking? He didn't want the man. He wanted Natasha.

Twisting his grip slightly, Loki brought the back end of the blade to Natasha's skin. He traced random whorls and loops, moving over the same areas his breath, fingers and nails had been. Her breath was fast in her chest, her lips parted in an almost sultry way, as if begging him for a kiss. It was tempting, her entire body was tempting, but this wasn't about plunging his cock into her, wasn't about commanding her in that sense. He understood it now. While there was an exquisite kind of torture in forcing a body to experience sensual pleasure past its limits, those former sessions hadn't been about _her_ pleasure but his. It had been to prove his sexual prowess to himself, to show that he was not _argr,_ that there was no hint of _ergi_ left about his person after her tender mercies.

This was trust, possibly as close to love with him that she could come. She trusted him not to harm her, trusted him to keep James' sensibilities in check, that he could take care of them if they needed it. For someone like Natasha, this was possibly even more valuable than love.

Loki treated this as a gift, and smirked as he brought the edge of the blade between her legs. He carefully trimmed off a bit of pubic hair, and outright grinned at James' scowl.

"Kiss her, James. You've been very good, you've earned a reward."

He responded instantly, the kiss tender and loving. _Oh._ They were beautiful together, a perfect compliment. It was more than just coloring; Loki looked good with her, too, in that case. It was more than that, the way they moved in concert, the way they instinctively knew how to touch and please each other.

Though he wanted to be jealous, he suddenly found that he couldn't.

When the kiss broke, he leaned forward and seized Natasha by the back of her neck. Sheathing his blade, Loki smirked at her. "Oh, this is going to be _interesting."_

"Scene over?" she asked before he leaned in to kiss her.

"For now," he conceded. But they would have to discuss an arrangement that encompassed the three of them. He looked at James with an eyebrow. "Given that this was more for your benefit than for hers, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, brows furrowing.

"Are you comfortable with the thought of Natasha being submissive to me, even in play? Are you comfortable with the idea of helping me if necessary? Is being present for play something you can even stomach?"

James swallowed, and looked at Natasha. She kept her own expression blank, so it was only his opinion that would count. "This wasn't bad," he allowed. "I can do something like this. But not hitting her or forcing her. I can't watch that."

"Striking someone is a different sensation, one that was particularly effective before."

Natasha didn't even look ashamed of that, which Loki was grateful for. Then again, she didn't have the same concept of _ergi_ hanging over her the way that he did. The shame of his degradation at her hands could burn even as he craved it. It was a delicious nectar to drown in, and he ached terribly at not having been putty in her hands for months.

"And I've missed her ministrations, I will admit," Loki said, keeping a straight face at James' surprise. "The sooner we figure out what is a pleasing arrangement, then I may have my own time once again."

"You..." James stopped and nodded absently. "Letting go of responsibility. Sounds good if you have too much of it. I understand that."

"Did you want more responsibility?" Loki asked.

 _"No._ I'm not... _good,_ not like Steve or Sam, not like what he thinks I should be working to be. I'm not."

Interesting. Loki hadn't thought he would have something in common with him aside from Natasha, but that was there. And more importantly, he would never want to dominate Loki, would never push him or penetrate him or taint him.

"I'm sure you're aware I am not, either," Loki replied dryly.

James' lips quirked into a smile rather like Natasha's. "Might've heard something like that."

"Then you know your _goodness_ is not being discussed. Using instruments or my hand to discipline Natasha in an encounter is hardly harming her. I would do no such thing. It's merely sensory input, grounding and filling in empty spaces."

"You sound like it's no big thing."

"It isn't because I care for Natasha's wellbeing. I care for her being whole. I once wanted her broken, but I don't wish for that." Loki thought about how best to put it into words. "She is a rare diamond, James Barnes. The distress cut new facets into her. I merely wish to be her polish."

"Beautiful analogy," Natasha murmured, giving him one of her rare amused smiles. "And somehow at the same time it manages to be completely filthy."

"All the best ones are."

She actually laughed outright, and that was like music for Loki. He recalled the vision of her he had seen, laughing and clinging to him, _loving him,_ a child and colleagues and respect and a _bright future_ in store for that version of him. Perhaps it was something to wish for, perhaps not, but he had a long way to go before he could earn such riches.

"Or instead of negotiating dom/sub sessions," Natasha suggested, head tilted slightly, "do we need to negotiate how the three of us would work in a relationship?"

Loki's stomach bottomed out of him. He couldn't tell if it was anticipation or dread of what she would want, but it at least wasn't despair.

"You mean you want me to fuck him?" James asked, brows furrowed in thought. His voice sounded curious rather than outraged, and something inside Loki quailed at the thought of being held down and fucked by anyone other than Natasha. It was different with her. She was special, she had earned that right and knew what it meant to him.

"I can't do that," Loki said quietly, a faint tremor in his voice. He gestured vaguely between himself and James, though his eyes were fixed on Natasha. "Not even for you, I can't... That. If it was to him, perhaps, but..."

"You can't even say it," Natasha observed, eyebrow and lips quirked in amusement. He flushed in embarrassment and anger, frustration making him clench his hands and teeth. She closed the gap between them and touched his cheek. _"Ergi._ I know. I'm not asking you to do anything you're not comfortable with. We haven't reinstated our deal since I broke it. But the safe word would still work, you know."

Loki exhaled slowly. "Ah. This is... this is good," he declared, finally. "And if we were to reinstate our deal, I would be much obliged."

Her eyes flicked to James, who stood patiently, as if they weren't discussing his participation in anything. "You know what I want, Loki. I haven't the heart to choose."

"Interesting phrasing," he commented.

She backed away a little, and he was immediately bereft. "No penetration for you. Unless it's from me, right?"

He licked his lips as he nodded, then looked uncertainly at James. "Yes."

James didn't acknowledge his unease. He merely nodded briskly. "That's fine. Those are the parameters you set. It wouldn't be the first time I've been used for such a thing."

The color drained from Loki's face, and he remembered the highlights in her upbringing in the Red Room, the competition for resources, the training, the way handlers and administrators corrupted bodies and souls regardless of how old the girls were. She gave him a sharp nod to confirm his worst fears, and he felt physically ill.

Dropping gracefully to his knees, James didn't even change expression. "Do you need a demonstration, Loki?"

He pressed a hand to his stomach as he shook his head. "No. _No._ I would never—It isn't right, wouldn't be—" He looked at Natasha helplessly, feeling ready to retch on the spot. The joy in handling the both of them earlier was gone. "I remember. From Asgard. The fear, that cloying sense of terror on my skin, if I would fall prey... No, I would not inflict that upon another as I used to imply." Loki looked at James intently. "There would be no force, do you understand? No coercion. No trickery. You care for Natasha, and I care for Natasha. That is enough, and I would not harm her by harming you. And forcing anything, ordering you and implying you have no choice... that would pain her greatly. It _should_ pain you. Should anything else occur, it would be your choice in the matter."

James rose to his feet, nodding. "Those are the parameters, then."

Loki blinked, and looked almost helplessly at Natasha. Were they actually negotiating how the three of them would proceed? Was this really happening? He hadn't intended for that to happen when he suggested playing with her today.

"No one is doing anything they're not comfortable with. This isn't the Red Room."

Endless children being tortured on a whim, ordered to become killing and manipulating machines. Natasha was turned from a windup ballerina into a blade. James had been a loyal friend and turned into a blunt instrument of destruction. Yelena could very well have been an ordinary little girl if not for the Red Room. They were all broken in different ways, reshaped into something monstrously different.

Loki didn't have that excuse. He had been a horrific, soulless demon for far too long, and it had been his own making. There was no one else to blame but him.

"No, it is not. This is something else, something I have no name for," Loki admitted.

"Release," James said quietly. "Because otherwise, we fall apart or explode. Because for some things, there are no words that fit. No way to explain."

Natasha nodded, and Loki found himself agreeing as well. "Then I think we have our deal back in place," she murmured with a slight smile.

Loki blew out a breath, then smiled. "Yes, I believe we do."

Anticipation thrummed in his veins, and he felt almost good as he did when Natasha cradled him in her arms after a particularly thorough session in Astoria.

This was going to be _wonderful._

***  
***


	4. Dynamic Shift

Jane and Sif managed to wrangle Bruce and Steve to accompany them on another outing without being obvious about their intentions. Steve obviously wouldn't mind going clothes shopping with Sif at all, but Jane didn't think Bruce would be very interested. "I thought you already got Darcy's graduation present?" Bruce had said, shrugging into a light jacket in case the possible rain that was forecasted fell.

"Yep, and she'll love it like the technology geek that she is," Jane said proudly, grinning at him. "But there's the event being held by the Stark Foundation that we've all been invited to."

"Oh. Right. That," Bruce said, shrugging. "I hadn't been planning to go."

"Why not?" Jane asked, surprised. "It's to raise money for inner city schools to expand their science and math programs since there's another budget cut." She grinned at Steve's surprised look. "What? Darcy set up a RSS feed to pop up on my computer with various science related topics. This has come up a few times, and I might have ranted at Tony over Skype before that this was a travesty, since most of the issue with STEM fields is that there simply isn't enough exposure. I don't know if that's what started it, but apparently there's some promotional work he agreed to do with Lockheed Martin as part of their latest contract."

"At least our sensor arrays will go up," Bruce said as they headed for the elevators.

"Exactly, and this is something I love, obviously. Kids love the stars and making things explode, but teachers tend to suck the joy of discovery out of it. If we can give them the funding to do it right, they'll go into it."

"STEM?" Steve asked.

"Science, technology, engineering and math. Traditionally male dominated on top of that, but any mind getting to learn would be wonderful."

"If your schools don't value such things, then what do they value?" Sif asked curiously.

"When I was in school, they stressed math and science and looked down on the arts," Steve said, shrugging. "There was always stress on sports, too."

"That never really went away. But the New York City Board of Ed doesn't get a lot of money, so they have older textbooks for _everything,_ nearly forty children per classroom, and it grinds down the teachers." Jane shrugged and looked a little sheepish as they stepped into the lobby of the tower. "Okay, I might have tried to teach summer school in order to earn some money when grant funding ran out while I was getting my first doctorate. That was an exercise in futility. Even Bronx Science didn't have the equipment I wanted, and they're one of the specialized high schools in the city."

Steve couldn't help but grin at her. "And if the Avengers and an Asgardian Ambassador show up at this shindig, we might be able to get the city some money?"

Sif was surprised. "I'm not here as an Ambassador!"

"No? 'Cause it would look like it. And Ambassadors would have to go between realms a little more often, wouldn't they?"

She caught his meaning immediately and laughed. "Why do your people think you so innocent?"

"They don't see past the smile," he replied, grinning. He held open the doors leading out to West 34th Street, and they started to walk.

"It _is_ a nice smile," Jane said, looking around Midtown. "I feel weird in fancy stores, but with the rest of you, we should do all right."

"It's a question of commanding the room, Lady Doctor Foster," Sif said, a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh, are we getting all formal, Lady Ambassador?" she teased.

"If we're going to get dolled up," Steve said, a wide grin on his face, "then we might as well do it up right. We'll make sure the others are all dolled up, too."

"We don't all get a chance to get together outside of the Tower," Bruce allowed. "It could actually be fun."

A scream and then an explosion off in the distance cut off Jane's reply. "Oh. You guys gotta go do the superhero thing," she said, looking in that general direction.

"We don't know if—"

Another explosion cut off Bruce's statement. "People are probably in danger," Steve said.

"Of course we're going to assist," Sif said with a nod. She looked to Jane, who was starting to turn around to head back into the Tower. "But of course you're coming."

"But I'm no fighter!"

"There were _explosions,"_ Steve pointed out.

"Someone needs to calm the populace. Never look down upon the skill of an arbiter or leader," Sif told her. "You already know you have those in abundance."

Jane drew in a breath. "All right. Let's go see what blew up."

They raced across the six blocks until they found the building in question. It was Osborn Laboratories, and upper floors had billowing clouds of smoke coming out of windows that had exploded outward. Fire licked at the walls, and there were people milling about and staring. "Don't just stand there!" Jane snapped immediately. Of course Steve and Sif were heading toward the building without a second thought and Bruce was looking for someone that knew what had triggered the explosion. "Call the fire department!" she snapped at someone gawking and trying to record the fire on his phone.

Some of the smoke was actually _purple,_ and seemed to dissipate soon after it billowed out of the window. The black smoke was behaving in an ordinary fashion, and Jane worried about whoever might have been inside the explosion. She turned and tried to find Steve and Sif, but they must have already gone into the building. There was little for her to do but keep people away from the building so the NYFD could get into the area and start putting out the fire. Steve and Sif came out bearing some of the people that must have been in the labs, including one that was stained completely purple.

Jane looked over at the others after the fire was out; even Bruce had gone into the building once he figured it was structurally safe. He hadn't turned into the Hulk, though he reported it as a near thing when one of the walls seemed ready to collapse.

"If it's all right with you guys," she said with a sigh, "I'd rather not go shopping for this party now. I'm feeling all worn out."

"But you still don't have a dress for the occasion," Sif said, frowning. "It would be less joyous an outing, certainly. Unless you would prefer to journey to Asgard, perhaps? If I am Ambassador, a formal dress and robes would be more appropriate."

That certainly piqued her interest. "Asgardian party clothes? I'm in. What are those parties like?"

Sif wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Tedious."

"Really?"

"Petty talk and attempts to make themselves appear more important in social standing. There have been changes introduced into the power structure after Natasha's visit, and I haven't been there in some time."

"It might only feel like a long time," Bruce began in protest.

"It does for me," Steve said with a smile.

"No, time between our realms does not flow in a cohesive manner. Our time and yours are not always the same. I have been on Midgard for almost three of your months, but I know that it will not be three months when we arrive there. Time may ebb and flow in odd ways in comparison to the linear progression that it has here."

"That's just... _strange,"_ Jane said, frustrated. "If time isn't even linear on your realm, I can't even use the information that Ketilve sends me on astronomical phenomena. The timing of things is so important..."

"There may be ways to correct it so that time is predictable," Sif offered. "Heimdall could perhaps help you? If we proceed to one of the royal tailors, we could still make use of the Bifrost and you can discuss the issue with him. He knows of such things."

"Huh," Jane said in a musing tone. "I wonder if there's an equation that would cover the difference in flow of time. Or if it's the way that dark energy is interacting with the matter in that realm? Because the way that Asgard operates simply doesn't make sense if you take only Newtonian physics into consideration."

The others grinned at her. "So... Asgard next?" Steve guessed with a grin.

"Oh! Yes, obviously. And just in case we're gone for a week because time starts dilating in an odd way, let's call Jarvis and let him know."

Bruce smiled and started dialing from his phone. "Not exactly what I expected to do today."

"What? Going to Asgard? Beats talking to paparazzi," Steve declared.

"I don't know... They seem to appreciate you," Bruce replied. He then turned his attention to the phone to start relaying the particulars of their outing.

"It's the smile," Sif said, linking her arm through his and grinning at him fondly.

"You did mention something about that," Steve agreed.

"It's a good smile," Jane declared. She looked at Bruce expectantly when he got off the phone.

"We're good to go."

Sif beamed and looked up to the sky. "Heimdall! We would like to visit Asgard!"

After a moment, the clouds above shifted as multicolored lights descended upon them and whisked them away to the golden realm.

***

Loki had missed being in the Astoria apartment. It hadn't been the same to be there without Natasha, and the atmosphere seemed to be a little different with James there. All of the security measures were explained to him, spells keyed to his biometric signature. He was suitably impressed and convinced that their safety was being taken seriously. Both Loki and Natasha had insisted on it once upon a time, and James was on board with continuing the measures even if Natasha no longer worked for SHIELD consistently and Loki didn't want to rule the world. "You both got enemies on a list longer than my arm," he had said plainly. "If you're both in this, your guard's going to be down. And if I'm in it, I can't keep watch. At least those things will watch over all of us."

He probably shouldn't have felt like James' concern was a heartwarming gesture, but it still came across that way to Loki.

James hadn't wanted his own sessions as a sub, but had agreed to watch or help during Natasha's sessions. He had been surprised that Loki subbed to Natasha more often than the reverse, but the way his lips had parted, Loki could tell that he liked the idea of submitting to her will. He suspected that a large part of that had to do with the programming he had been under for so long, as well as the idea of it being _Natasha_ taking care of him.

To test James' readiness, they had all agreed that Loki would take his dom turn first. He was actually quite gleeful about this, though he kept his composure. Checking on Natasha and James, he gestured toward the bedroom. "Let us begin."

Once inside the bedroom, he had both strip. James did it without much fanfare, and looked to Loki with a question in his eyes. "Kneel somewhere comfortable," Loki instructed him. He watched Natasha strip and allowed himself a smile at the play of her sinuous curves. "Position yourself on all fours," he instructed her. "James will be your pillow," he continued, gesturing toward the spot where James had knelt on the carpeted floor. He caught her hair before she could move, halting her progress. "You can take your pleasures, pet," he murmured, voice laden with desire. "I give you this," he said, curling his other hand around her throat and then sliding it down the slope of her breasts. "And you will feel what I allow you to feel. What say you?"

"Thank you," Natasha murmured.

"Good girl," Loki crooned, letting his hand slide down to caress a breast. "Now get into position. You can look at his cock, but you can't put that pretty mouth of yours on it."

"Yes, Loki."

She wasn't needy and lost, so Loki doubted he could get her to drop into subspace. Still, it would be interesting to see how far he could take her.

First, he used the riding crop to trace the length of her spine and readjust the positioning of her limbs. It was also a subtle reminder that he would punish her if she fell out of line, though he doubted she would do such a thing. Loki smiled as he traced her limbs with the crop, then gave light taps along her skin. He tapped out a rhythm that was similar to a healing _galdr,_ changing the locations of the strikes against her flesh. Nothing was too hard, nothing meant to welt, more to make her aware of his presence and the situation.

James' gaze was fixed on Natasha, head lowered in a deferential position. He sat very still, and Loki knew it had to have come from his time in Department X. Loki moved the crop to the top of James' head, then down to his right shoulder. The man didn't move, didn't give any indication that he felt the touch at all. Natasha's head was pillowed on his thighs, and she could breathe on his cock, slightly more turgid now than before, but otherwise she was following Loki's direction very well. But then, she was always good about following the letter of the law and sneaking her way past it. Loki had intended for James to merely watch, but Natasha's breath was also enough sensation directly along his cock.

"Clever girl," Loki purred, bringing the crop to rest along the curve of her ass. He rubbed it against her slit, grinning at her intake of breath. "Still doing as I say, I see."

"Of course, Loki," she replied. James' cock twitched slightly, and Loki wanted to laugh.

"You're still so very aware of yourself. Not sliding down at all."

"Perhaps it's a failing I have," she replied softly.

When their deal started, he would have agreed with her. Oh, the difference that three and a half years could make. "Or mine," he murmured, rubbing the crop against her slit. Her breath caught when the edge just nudged her clit, without really giving her the sensation she wanted. "You're thinking too much," he chided.

Natasha let out a huff, which got James' cock to twitch again. "I suppose you need to punish me for that," she replied, just a shade too cheeky.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked, reaching down. He put his hand along her back, right between her shoulder blades, then curled his fingers. He scraped her skin, stopping at the small of her back, welts forming from the scratches. She really did have quite delicate skin that marked nicely when he put his mind to it.

"I take what you give me."

"Exactly."

Loki let the crop drop and undid the cuffs of the tailored shirt he had worn, then unbuttoned it. He drew out the process, then tossed it aside negligently. Next came the belt, treated leather and very expensive. That he let trail along the welts, the buckle cool against her skin. Collecting the belt, he gave her one sharp snap against her thigh. "For poor attitude," he said, before letting the belt drop to the floor as well.

"Thank you, Loki," Natasha whispered. Her eyes were fixed on James' cock, but the cheeky smirk was gone. Now she was falling into the role nicely, and Loki felt as though his chest would swell. This was what he craved from her. This kind of obedience. The acceptance of his rule, that his will was enough, that he was enough, he was _good enough_ to care for her—

Good enough. Interesting phrase. Normally he knew he was far from it.

He soothed the welts on her back with the flat of his hand. "You want to be such a good girl, don't you, pet?" he asked, his voice a soft croon. "You want me to show you how to do this, don't you? How to please me?"

"What will make you happy?"

Not full obeisance, but acceptance. This would likely be her usual state, but Loki still adored this. It was like the way she had submitted to him in Andorra, kneeling at his command but still making eye contact. She was there, in the moment with him, not lost, not too far gone that she was slipping away.

Loki slid his other hand around to cup her ass, then shifted so that the tips of his fingers could brush against the damp curls between her thighs. "Fucking you, pet. Fucking you until you can't walk, until you're hoarse from screaming, until the cries are all you can think of." His long fingers slid home, then curled into her heat.

"Then I want that. I want to make you happy. Whatever will make you happy."

He started thrusting his fingers in and out of her, slowly, enough to drag a groan out of her. "That is good, pet. My darling girl."

Stroking her slit with the hand between her legs, Loki brought his other hand to the back of her neck. He held her steady as he fucked her with his fingers. Her breath came in short pants, fingers curling into the carpet. Just short of orgasm, Loki withdrew his fingers. "You moved," he taunted, squeezing the back of her neck. "You need to work harder to obey."

James twitched at that, making Loki wonder if something similar had been said to him before.

"I'm trying," Natasha panted.

Loki struck her on the backside, a single sharp blow. "Not enough," he rebuked.

Her breath hissed in between her teeth at the contact. "Yes, Loki," she panted.

He massaged the skin, then undid his trousers. "This time, you'll be a good girl and hold still."

"Yes, Loki."

Letting the trousers fall to the floor, Loki slid home. He used his magic to keep himself erect even as she tightened with her approaching orgasm. He pushed into her at a rapid pace, his hands tight on her hips to help keep her steady. This time she kept her hands flat on the floor, her eyes sliding shut and her breath coming in short gasps. James kept still, his own breathing shallow and his cock half erect as he watched Natasha moan in pleasure.

Moving until he was exhausted, Loki watched Natasha shake and tremble. She maintained her position through her orgasms, even though the tremors nearly threatened to have her collapse to the floor. She moaned, softly and quietly, but it was her real and natural response. Even as her body milked his cock, Loki kept thrusting, kept moving even after he spilled inside her. She was slick from her own wetness and his come, and that just meant that he had to push harder against her, move even faster to get some friction. He counted out how often she came, voice hoarse and mouth dry from her panting, and he let himself slow down after her fifth one. She was sweaty and shaking, obeying his rules by not even touching the cock about an inch from her face. It wept precome, and there was strain in his posture, but still James sat. They were both probably as close to subspace in a normal state of mind as he would ever be able to get them.

It felt _glorious._

"You're so good, pet," he crooned, running his hands down her spine. "Suck on James' cock and swallow him down. He's been such a good boy, waiting this long for release. Give it to him."

Natasha greedily took James' cock into her mouth, and he grunted at the sensation, tension bleeding out of him. Loki still thrust into her, but more slowly, savoring the feel of her clenching tight around him and the sight of her lips around James' cock. He could reach down and take up a fistful of hair, could direct how deep and fast she took him, could draw it out even further. But he was growing tired, she was no doubt sore, and Natasha likely had to get off her knees. Even with a plush carpet, it would still hurt.

James let out a long and throaty groan as his hips jerked, pushing more of his cock into Natasha's mouth. Loki could see her swallow, head bobbing slightly, and he licked his lips as he drank in the sight of her. He knew the feel of her mouth on him, how she could easily bring him ecstasy and bliss.

This time, when Loki came, he let go of the magic keeping him erect and pulled out. "You cleaned up James so nicely with your mouth, pet. Lick me clean."

"I'll have to move, Loki," she reminded him, voice scratchy and dry. This wasn't quite her acerbic wit, but dulled somewhat by excessive pleasure and exhaustion.

"Of course," Loki said, running his fingers lightly down her back. "Just get me clean."

She did, her tongue soft and gentle, lapping at him before taking his cock into her mouth. The picture made his gut tighten with _want,_ though now his own exhaustion was creeping through without the magic fueling him. His seed dribbled down her slicked thighs, making him feel almost proud for having caused such a mess. A flick of his fingers and a fragment of will to cast a spell able to clean her gently, and then all of it was gone. A useful trick, even if most warriors scorned spells like that.

Once Natasha was done, Loki dropped his hand onto the top of her head. "Excellent. I believe we're done for today."

As she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Loki gathered her up in his arms and looked over at James, who had watched her avidly. "James. Turn down the comforter."

"Is that an order?" he asked, looking up in confusion.

"The scene's over," Loki said, shaking his head as he got to his feet. "I could always use magic, but you're right there and could help."

Still not understanding Loki's meaning, James got to his feet and threw back the comforter. A bit overkill, but Loki wasn't going to complain. He gently laid Natasha in the center of the bed, her body loose and fucked-out, lips curling into a soft and sensual smile. Loki kicked off the trousers still puddled around his ankles and grasped the edge of the comforter as he crawled into the bed. "You planning to stand there?" he asked archly.

"I'm allowed?" James asked, still appearing confused.

Loki wasn't sure if the prior conditioning in Department X had been that specific or they had treated him that abominably. Possibly both. "Yes, you are. Scene over. Now we cuddle and relax until Natasha is ready to leave."

James blinked in surprise. "Oh. I hadn't realized that was part of it."

"Aftercare, James," Natasha said with a grin, nearly giggling. Oh yes, she had come close to subspace indeed, and Loki could afford to give James a magnanimous grin and pat the bed on the other side of Natasha.

"Come in, Barnes. And pull up the blanket. We're naked, after all."

He snorted, finding the words incongruous, perhaps, but he did just that. Natasha put her head on his chest, settling into the space near his armpit, and pulled Loki's arm around her stomach so that he was flush against her back. Wedged between the both of them, Natasha let out a long, contented sigh.

"Pleased?" Loki asked, nipping her shoulder.

"Very."

Loki pushed her hair aside with his free hand as best as he could, then nipped the length of her neck. He heard her near-giggle and tightened his arm around her torso. He did that. He made her happy, he did this for her. Not once did she have to ask to slow it down.

"You please me, too," he murmured into her ear.

"Mmmm," she replied, sounding close to sleep. "Just you wait," she murmured. "I'll get you just as good as you got me today."

"Oh, I look forward to it," he purred, and settled in comfortably behind her.

James had observed them both very closely, and nodded absently now. "I do, too."

Hm. _Interesting._

***

Pepper entered the common area of the Tower and noted how empty it seemed. "Jarvis?" she called out. "Where is everyone?"

"Bruce, Steven, Sif and Jane are in Asgard for formalwear fittings. Natasha, Loki and James exited via portal for an unannounced location but did not appear to be under duress. Clint and Thor are in the viewing room and are watching all of the Resident Evil films at 150% volume to accommodate Clint's hearing. Sir is in his workshop. Sam did not yet begin residence here, but I do track movements when they are announced to me. In this case, he did not."

She frowned a bit at the recitation. "Clint has hearing loss?"

"It has become more noticeable after his return from Atlanta."

"And odds are good he never bothered to mention it to the doctor I hired for the team."

"Miss Potts, I do believe that Sir took credit for that."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "I can see him doing that." She strolled into the kitchen to start brewing herself coffee. "I'm assuming Tony has something suitable for the fundraiser?"

"Sir did not point out which suit he planned to wear, Miss Potts," Jarvis replied, a touch more acerbic than usual. "He rarely discusses mode of fashion with me."

"You are utterly indispensible, Jarvis," Pepper said with a smile. "I meant he has clean formal wear in his closet, right? Or do I need to buy him a new suit?"

"There are eleven suits that would suffice. He is also currently crafting a new alloy for the Mark 49, should you care to know about _those_ suits."

"Unless he's finishing one for me, not really."

"Sir _has_ entertained the notion, of course," Jarvis replied, startling Pepper. "It is built with your specific measurements in mind, but is incomplete."

"I thought he was joking when he mentioned it."

"The suit is code named 'Rescue,' Miss Potts."

Pepper paused, then went through the motions to get her cup of coffee via the Keurig. "I like the sound of that. Tony certainly knows the truth of things, doesn't he?"

"Often times, he does, Miss Potts. Do you wish to visit Sir in his workshop?"

"I think I will. It should be interesting to see how far he got with the Rescue armor. It better not be pink or have some kind of weird robotic uniboob feature."

There was a pause, making Pepper think that if Jarvis could laugh or hide, the AI absolutely would have. "I believe Sir should show you what he had started to build. It lacks the proper scale and energy readings of the arc reactor, since it doesn't have one yet."

Smirking, Pepper grabbed her mug and headed for Tony's lab. There was AC/DC playing loud enough for her to hear it through the tempered glass, but the volume was lowered by the time she approached the door. Tony's protest cut off as soon as he realized who it was. "I didn't forget date night, did I?" he asked, a vague panicky look on his face as she entered the workshop.

"No, you didn't, believe it or not," Pepper said with a laugh. She took a lengthy sip of her coffee, savoring Tony's anxiety. "I just came to see you. And the shop. And the armor."

"Since when did you want to see the armor I built?" he asked suspiciously.

"Since hearing one of them is mine."

Tony looked up at the ceiling and heaved a long suffering sigh. "J, that was supposed to be a _surprise_ for Pepper."

"She twisted my arm, Sir."

Pepper laughed outright at Tony's incredulous expression. "You don't have a—You know what? Never mind. I'll unplug a server or something." He looked over at Pepper and wagged the power sander in her general direction. "I was going to let it be a surprise."

"We'll say I'm surprised."

Only too glad to show off the armor, Tony gleefully headed over to another area of the shop and beckoned for her to follow. The armor carried a golden sheen that matched the strawberry blonde of her hair, and there was a distinct lack of anime-style robotic breasts. "Gold titanium alloy, vibranium in some areas to cushion the landing, deflect some of the stresses in the joints. I have to finish wiring it and getting a power source, test out the power on some of the repulsors. I'm not giving you guns, by the way."

Rubbing his back with one hand, Pepper sipped her coffee and looked over the suit with a critical eye. "It looks good. When I can I try it?"

Tony blinked in surprise. "Really? You're going to fly it?"

"When I'm not too busy with SI, of course. But yes, it should be fun."

Tony grinned and gave her a quick kiss, getting the oil smeared on his face onto hers. Rubbing it off only smeared it further across her cheeks. "Oh. I forgot I had that."

"I swear, Tony, sometimes it's a surprise you survived this long."

He took it as a compliment, of course, and swept her up into another kiss. "You really like it? You're not just humoring me, right? You really do like the suit?"

"Yes, Tony, I like the suit. It's not too flashy. Very subtle, very nice."

"Only the best for you, Pep."

She grinned at him and kissed him again. "Still need to do more work? Or are you done for the day?" At his diffident shrug, she ran her eyes over him appraisingly. "You need a shower, Tony. You're covered in motor oil and sweat."

"You said that's a good look on me!"

"Yes, I did. I lied. You know what's a good look on you?"

"No, what?"

"Soap and water. In our shower. Upstairs, with the entry locked so no one enters. With me scrubbing you with the soap and water."

Tony's eyes sparkled. "Oh. I do like your ideas. You have very good ones."

Pepper smiled and finished her coffee. "Of course I do. That's why I run your company. Let's go upstairs, Tony."

It was too easy to put down the sander and follow her out.

***  
***


	5. Three To Tango

The charity event was held at the Museum of Natural History, which Loki hadn't wanted to admit made him a little excited. James had enjoyed his trip with Natasha and Steve the other day, and Steve had been so grateful for the trip. He had grinned and showed Loki his sketchbook afterward. In jeans, a hoodie and gloves, James had blended in with the other patrons and carried on ordinary conversations about the exhibits. The sketches showed a relaxed James, sometimes holding Natasha's hand, sometimes making faces at Steve.

"It was almost Bucky in spots," Steve had said with a fond smile. "Not that James isn't a good pal, too, but it's nice to have _my_ pal sometimes. Like I didn't lose as much of the old days as I thought I did."

Loki had smiled in return, refusing to feel guilty. He had played a part in it, even if none of the others was aware of that fact. "I'm glad you're pleased. You are a good man that suffered much. Some goodness should come your way."

He'd been startled by the sincere words, but clapped Loki on the shoulder in a friendly way. "The difference a few years makes, huh?"

Steve had been found not long before the Battle of New York, Loki remembered. Before that, he had been in 1945 Europe fighting in a war. Yes, it was a vast difference.

Thinking about it, Loki was glad that Steve had companionship. James or Bucky, Barnes was also a good man that had been subjected to horrors. As much as Loki might want to, he really couldn't begrudge them some happiness.

Steve was in a black tuxedo with a bright red cummerbund so that he coordinated with Sif's red tunic and gauzy gold overtunic. The tunic clung tighter than would be proper for an Asgardian hall, but was very chaste yet sexy by Midgardian standards. "You're a mighty fine pinup," Steve had said upon seeing her. With her hair done up in ringlets, ruby drop earrings and hair pins and golden shoes, Sif truly was a vision. She finally appeared like the jarl she was, and Loki knew all the ballroom gossips on Asgard would have choked on their tongues at the sight of her.

Sam had recovered enough to attend, his foot in an air cast that leant a slight hobble to his gait. Loki had offered to heal the bone the rest of the way, but he wouldn't hear of it. "Dude, you freaked out before and I'm not gonna have you wigging out at a party. Besides, maybe I'll get a pity date."

"That wouldn't be worthy of you."

"Worthy? I don't need _worthy._ I need a good time. I'll worry about worthy later. Miss Right doesn't show up when you're looking for her. She shows up when she's good and ready."

"Quite... Philosophical, perhaps."

"I can bide my time for the right honey. So I'm going in a purely platonic friends-only date with Rhodey and Carol."

Loki had looked at him blankly. "Who?"

"Rhodey is James Rhodes. Tony's best friend. Air Force. I'm surprised you haven't met him before, but I suppose you could've and just not noticed. He's coming with Carol Danvers. Also Air Force. So, you know, if a threesome happens, I'd be cool with that." He grinned when Loki choked in surprise. "You're easy to wind up, you know that?"

"But would you really?"

"Hell yeah. They're good people, it would be fun."

"Would you not feel your masculinity challenged?"

"Why would I?" Sam had asked, truly startled by the question.

"For lying with another male."

"This is a culture thing, isn't it?" At Loki's glower, Sam laughed. "Hey, man, I'm secure in myself. Messing around doesn't make me less of a man. It just means I like having a good time. Besides, what I do in the bedroom is nobody's business but my own."

Beside Sam at the gala was an elegantly dressed man in formal military dress beside a woman in a long glittering black dress. Her blonde hair was loose, and she wore evening gloves that went to the elbow. Loki could sense power in her, though he wasn't sure where it had come from. It was more than simple strength of character, though she certainly had that.

Ah. James Barnes was entering, dressed in a tailored suit and black fabric gloves similar to Captain Danvers' evening gloves. It covered the metallic fingers well and served to add a touch of elegance. Beside him was Natasha in a floor length emerald green gown that fit so well it seemed painted onto her exquisite curves. She wore dangling emerald and silver earrings and an emerald choker around her throat, as well as a beaten silver cuff on her left wrist that was studded with emeralds. He had proudly presented them to her some time ago, and they did complement her coloring well. It was also his favorite color, and he adored seeing her in it.

Maria Hill sidled up next to Loki. It startled him that he hadn't noticed her arrival. She wore an elegant navy blue dress, high heels and a glittering river of diamonds around her throat. Her hair was swept up into a chignon, and she held a flute of champagne out for him to take as she sipped her own.

"Good evening," he said as he took it from her.

"I suppose it is," she replied with a wry expression. "Nice to see Stark using his influence for good every once in a while."

"You are quite cynical," Loki observed. "It must be your line of work."

"That's true," Maria acknowledged. "I rarely see humanity's good side. I'm glad I've seen yours." She smiled and sipped her champagne at his raised eyebrow. "You know. The consulting. I've put the paperwork in for you at SHIELD, by the way. I picked the codename Trickster, I hope you don't mind."

Loki froze and blinked at her. That name again. "Mind?"

"Well, you aren't exactly like the mythological Loki, but I think you'd still apply as a trickster figure. Plus, it's good to have a codename in the field, in case you pick a cover identity and we don't want to compromise it." She sipped the champagne again. "Thor and Sif did talk with us a bit about Asgardian culture, since we never got a report on that from Natasha."

"She was otherwise occupied by a mission," Loki reminded her icily.

"I realize that. Anyway, my point is that I doubt you'd enjoy Odinson or Friggason as a last name for the documentation."

"Decidedly not," he replied. Friggason wouldn't be as bad as Odinson, truth be told, but that was complicated and not a discussion he was willing to have with Maria.

"So for now, you don't have one. Or a social security number, or banking information. We've had to set aside an account for you, and we can transfer funds wherever you'd like once you have something set up."

"Quaint," Loki replied. Finances? He'd never bothered to think of such things. No one ever demanded rent or recompense. Perhaps they felt his magical expertise and protection was enough. Or it was simply to appease him. Or gain Thor's favor.

"Maybe," Maria continued, not realizing she had started a firestorm of doubt. "But it's how we do things here. Not all of us can be as blasé as Tony about money."

"Oh?" Loki murmured, wondering what she meant.

"He has more money than he needs. It's easy for him to give it away at a function like this. Money isn't important to him."

"Then what is?"

"There are a handful of people that matter to him," Maria replied bluntly. "They're all in this room. That's what matters most."

"Ah. Well, few are so blessed, I see." Loki gave her a thin smile. "And what of you, Agent Hill? You represent SHIELD tonight, I suppose. Who matters to you?"

Maria put her empty flute down on the table beside them. "Are you looking to see if you matter to me, Loki?"

"Don't be daft, Agent Hill," Loki snapped derisively.

"I'm your handler for SHIELD. That means your wellbeing is my concern. If there's an issue, you need to tell me so I can take care of it."

She said it with a straight face, too, meaning she actually meant it. That helped shake off Loki's growing doubts.

"I have no issue with you or your organization at this time," he told her honestly. "You provide diversion, after all."

"Glad to be of service," Maria replied, managing to sound sincere and sardonic at once.

"The children are well, by the way," he told her. "Frigga is quite thrilled with having a classroom full of attentive students. The eldest in particular makes progress."

Now Maria's smile was genuine again. "Good. From your report and the documents you stole, they had been kept in deplorable conditions." She touched his arm in a familiar kind of way. "They deserve better."

"Yes, they do."

"Enjoy your evening," she said, then moved to greet Tony and Pepper. He was in a tailored suit, she in an elegant white dress with no sleeves, a Mandarin collar, and no back. Pepper seemed genuinely glad to see Maria, Tony less so.

Loki skirted past Thor and Jane, who were standing with Bruce and a few people that Loki assumed were from Lockheed and Martin. Jane was in just an Asgardian undertunic, a grayish blue color with darker blue embroidery all along the hemlines. They were warding runes and arranged in a protection spell, he realized, and the layers of fabric within the undertunic did complement Jane's appearance well. Thor was in formal Asgardian attire, without his usual armor plating and cape. His hair was pulled back, and he seemed to be earnestly adding to the conversation, which Loki could only guess was mostly about space or astronomy in some manner, given Jane and Bruce's lively participation.

Clint was nowhere about, but he had promised to make an appearance. Loki was sure he wouldn't be amenable to keeping him occupied at a boring function like this, so he didn't bother to try seeking the archer out. He started moving toward Natasha and James, but a woman of Chinese descent approached them first. He hung back slightly, pretending to be interested in the canapé selection on a nearby table, not willing to interrupt Natasha's socializing time. The Chinese woman was familiar, though Loki didn't know her name. 

"Melinda," Natasha said warmly. Ah. Her friend from SHIELD.

"Why is it that I have to track you down to talk to me?" Melinda May asked. "You haven't answered any of my calls since your return from Asgard."

"Sitwell sent me out again," Natasha replied with a tight smile. "I didn't get much downtime at all. And then after... I was occupied."

"Ah. I'm still the bus driver for Coulson," she said, nodding his direction. He was standing off to the side with Clint and a svelte brunette in purple that didn't even look old enough to drink. "He thought this was a good opportunity for a break."

"And spend time with Steve?" Natasha asked knowingly.

"It's a bonus," Melinda agreed dryly. She turned her attention to James. "Introductions?"

"This is James Barnes," Natasha began. "Agent Melinda May of SHIELD."

"This is new. And not new," Melinda observed.

"Yes," Natasha agreed sweetly.

Melinda smirked at her. "Nice to see some things never change. I did hear you're off book now, only consulting."

"That's right. Being an Avenger and Ambassador is work enough for me right now."

James touched Natasha's shoulder. "I'll let you two talk shop. I'll leave, in case there are classified secrets I shouldn't be hearing."

"Not likely, but just in case," Natasha agreed. Loki made sure to mask his own nearby presence so she wouldn't be reticent. He left, apparently willing to seek out Steve and Sif, or perhaps Sam. Steve had introduced the two, and they had apparently hit it off, complaining about Steve's apparent inability to wait for backup.

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd walk away from SHIELD," Melinda began, "but it's possibly the best course of action right now. There are a lot of strange things out there, and SHIELD may not be able to handle all of it."

"But working off book I could?" Natasha asked incredulously.

"You're not constrained by field protocols."

Natasha glowered at her. "It doesn't give me leave to kill indiscriminately, Melinda."

"I didn't say kill," she pointed out, unperturbed.

"Then what _are_ you saying?"

"Procedures and protocols are important to higher ups. They like their paperwork. As a consultant, you can do whatever needs to be done, no need to confirm via secure channels."

"Not enjoying the field?" Natasha asked archly.

"There are some benefits to it," Melinda admitted. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be. But Phil still has me do the write ups."

Natasha snickered. "I won't miss those."

"Are you really okay?" Melinda asked quietly after a beat. "Nobody's saying anything."

"Most of the time I'm okay," she replied honestly. "Every once in a while, I'm not." Natasha gave Melinda a thin smile. "It's the nature of grief."

Melinda's expression softened a fraction. "It is, yes."

"I haven't had much opportunity to grieve in the past."

"While we're in New York, we should meet up."

Natasha nodded. "We don't do that enough."

 _"Call me._ Stop hiding, then. Of all people, I know what you're going through. Let me help you."

"You never had anyone help you."

"And look at how I turned out."

"You seem fine to me."

"I'm not fine. Not where Bahrain is concerned. Not where Alaska is concerned." Melinda gave Natasha a pointed look. "And you know that, too."

Natasha let out a slow breath. "The rest of the time..."

"I transformed my hate. I mine it. I use it. I was hoping you wouldn't have to. It's better for you if you don't."

"Even before you were my SO, there was a lot of pain to work through. I won't ever be done with it. I can't ever atone."

"Only you can say if you have or not. But for the rest of us? We think you have." Melinda's lips formed a sliver of a smile. "And there will always be those of us that have got your back, even if you're not really a SHIELD agent anymore."

"Thank you," Natasha murmured.

Loki waited a beat after Melinda left to approach Natasha. She took the glass of champagne that he offered her and downed it all at once.

"Barnes seems comfortable with Steve tonight."

"He's sure there won't be a flashback tonight."

They fell into a companionable silence for a time, and Loki wondered if he should admit that he had been eavesdropping. The thought of Natasha denigrating herself rankled. He had sought to discredit her years ago, but she was not the horrible and duplicitous person he had wanted her to see herself as. _He_ was the horrid creature, and Natasha had done nothing but work tirelessly for others in the entire time he had known her.

"This grows dull," he said finally. "How long before we can politely leave?"

"We should stay."

A thread of magic caressed her nipples and clit. "Still think so, Natasha?" he purred.

"You're cheating," she accused, desire making her voice deliciously husky. He really should have done this sooner.

"We had no ground rules for tonight."

"I didn't think there needed to be."

"You look delectable in my colors," Loki purred. "You can't possibly blame me."

"James," Natasha murmured. "I won't leave him."

"No, I don't suppose you would."

"So the three of us. Together. At once."

Loki's mouth ran dry. It should have terrified him, yet somehow it didn't. Perhaps because Sam didn't react badly on the practice, and the taboos against _ergi_ didn't seem to exist on Midgard in the same way it did on Asgard. And as Sam had pointed out, no one needed to know. Natasha would never reveal their dalliance, she had more than proven herself in that regard by now. Loki was sure that James would never breathe a word of it either.

Natasha slid in closer and smirked. "Thinking about it? About one of you beneath me and the other fucking my ass? About making me come?"

"If this is your wish, I can make it happen," Loki promised, adding a little extra strength to the magic teasing her body.

"Then make it happen."

 _Oh._ This was about to happen. This was going to be real. And he _wanted this,_ wanted Natasha, wanted her curled and panting beneath him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of her. It didn't even matter if James would be present or not.

Loki grinned. "As you wish."

Somehow the three of them made excuses and left, ignoring the rest of the party. They made their way back to Avengers Tower, to Natasha's suite; Loki could have used a portal, but actual travel time seemed to make the anticipation grow. James seemed very calm, and there was the knowing and sensual smile on Natasha's face. Loki _wanted_ so much he could taste it, his body physically aching. Locking and spell-sealing her suite shut, clothes were far too overrated. He kissed Natasha as James drew down the zipper on her dress, as he removed the jewelry carefully and reverently. His own suit was also carefully removed and put aside. Loki simply tore off his own clothing without regard to its care. He let his hand run down Natasha's side and watched James take off the gloves and stand to the side. He knew what Natasha wanted, she had explained it all in graphic detail as they had waited for a cab, and was more than willing to follow her lead on this.

"Bedroom," she said, voice husky with need.

She kissed James and stroked his body, running her hands over his muscles as if sculpting him. He groaned when she closed her hand over his semi erect cock, and his hands twitched as they cupped her ass and kept her close. Loki had kept the thread of magic taunting her body since the museum gala, and now he increased the intensity of the spell. She jerked and came in James' arms, then whimpered with need when his fingers plunged between her thighs. Loki let his fingers brush against her back as a further reminder that he was there.

James fucked her with his fingers as he kissed her with startling intensity. Loki felt superfluous and turned on, the wanting sending his blood to boiling. Natasha moaned against James' mouth, and he leaned down to nip at her shoulder. He could suddenly understand Sam's point of view, that this would be play, that it wouldn't change who he truly was.

Once Natasha came again, Loki nudged his shoulders so that he lost his balance and sat back on Natasha's bed. "The lady is most impatient," he said.

"Seems she's not the only one," James replied, but he didn't sound angry about it. No, he seemed to be just as eager for her, and flopped backward, presenting his naked body.

It was easy for Natasha to climb up over James' sprawled body, her saucy smile tempting both men to impure thoughts. Her lithe body likely helped with that, too, and the promises of the three of them coming to some kind of arrangement was a heady draw. Both had been very good about not pressuring her to choose, about having to rank one over the other. Loki always knew James was better for her and her greater love, but he never used that as a means of guilting her into something.

Loki helped Natasha keep her balance as she sank down over his cock. He cupped her breasts, tracing their shape and then rubbing the nipples to make her gasp. "Magic is allowed for this, yes?" he asked, lips by her ear.

"I might be persuaded to consider it," she said in a throaty, teasing voice. "I do happen to like this particular spell of yours."

The thread of magic that teased her clit shifted so that it also massaged her hole, making her gasp in pleasure. "What do you think of this, darling girl?" he purred, rather pleased with himself.

"Shut up with the teasing already," James growled beneath her, shifting his hands to her hips. "Get started so _she_ can get started. I wanna come."

"Just for that, we should make you wait," Natasha taunted. But she made a slight yelp as Loki pinched her nipples harder than she liked. "Hey!"

"Don't tease him _too_ much, Natasha," Loki said, biting her shoulder. "It isn't very nice, and I know how he feels."

It was surprising enough that Natasha actually apologized. She smiled when he laughed and moved away from her. Loki admired the play of her body, the feel of her skin beneath his hands. He nipped her shoulder again, considering how best to proceed as Natasha looked down at James with utter devotion. _I love you,_ she mouthed, grinning.

He had a goofy grin on his face as he looked up at her. "I'm a lucky guy."

Loki retrieved the bottle of lube she kept in the bedside drawer. A flick of his wrist, and there was that ghostly pressure between her legs again, rubbing at her clit and making her clench down on James' cock. He groaned and Loki laughed, a light hearted sound. He coated his long fingers liberally with the lubricant, then started to massage her anus and his cock with it. Natasha leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands to hover over James' body. "How are you holding up?" she asked him, grinning as she bit her bottom lip.

"Just impatient," he replied as Loki gingerly slid one finger into her. "Can we hurry the hell up?"

"Let's not damage our darling girl," Loki replied, moving his finger in and out slowly to start loosening her up.

Natasha shifted her hips backward, sliding nearly off of James' cock but impaling herself fully on Loki's finger. "Try another. One won't damage me."

In response to that, he thrust a little harder into her. Natasha's breath caught. "That." She had to stop and try again. "That's not unpleasant."

Snorting, Loki eased a second finger into her. Now there was likely going to be a burn to the stretch, if it worked for her the same way it did for him. Remembering that, he worked slowly as Natasha forced herself to relax. Loki still couldn't believe his good fortune, pushing aside the thought that he _should_ feel concerned about this if he was on Asgard. She asked for this. She wanted them both inside her like this, she had thought it would work. It would, she was sure of it, she just needed to be loose enough to accept both of them at once. Having Loki's magic continue to tease her clit helped, because she was hovering nearly on the verge of orgasm already, a steady whine in her throat.

Finally, Loki deemed her ready for his cock. Slicked and eager for her, Loki eased past the outer ring of muscle and then slowly into her. Once he was fully seated inside her, Loki caressed the sides of her torso. "Very tight," he murmured, slowly pulling out. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she said, turning to look over her shoulder with a defiant grin. "So ready."

It was awkward and hard to coordinate. James tried to thrust up, Natasha tried to see saw between them, and Loki wanted to fuck her in earnest but couldn't quite get into rhythm. Finding it utterly ridiculous, Natasha couldn't help but laugh. James swatted her stomach in irritation, Loki pinched a nipple, and she batted at them both. But slowly, finally, they seemed to settle into a figure eight sawing motion that had them all groaning in pleasure. "Fuck, I feel that," James growled as Natasha keened and Loki stuttered in Allspeak.

"Faster?" Loki panted when he could remember English.

"If you want me done, maybe," James answered.

Natasha tried moving a little faster, and James hadn't been kidding about how close he was. It was over far too soon for him. But Natasha stayed in place as Loki fucked into her, making her moan and gasp, body tightening beneath him. James hissed when she did, but didn't try to move her. Instead, he stroked Natasha and helped her stay balanced as she shivered and came again, whimpering. Loki stripped his spell, the concentration distracting him enough that he lasted a little longer despite the sensation of her.

"I can keep going," he offered, reaching down to tease her clit.

"God, no," James pleaded, helping Natasha lift off of him once Loki withdrew. "I might have a super serum, but it's still too much right now."

Loki looked at James as Natasha retreated to the bathroom to clean herself up, a happy little grin on her face. "Is this really all right with you?" he asked, no trace of anxiety in his tone. It wouldn't do to have James think that Loki was worried about his place in Natasha's affections. He was a god to these mortals, after all. He should be above such things.

Maybe he would have been, if Natasha wasn't involved.

James shrugged and sat up on the bed, limbs loose and languid from release. The metal arm moved smoothly, the faintest of mechanical whirring sounds evident in the quiet room. He truly was an extraordinary specimen, if an observation like that could be safely made aloud. Loki wasn't sure if it would be appreciated, and kept the thought to himself.

"I suppose I never really had her all to myself, so it's not like it's a new thing for me. And even with someone else that loves her at the same time? Already did that, too."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Loki admitted, blinking in surprise. "I suppose I thought you would hate this. That you would want it to be a contest."

"There's no contest, never had to be. Natasha gets what she wants, and she deserves that. She's been through hell her entire life. Why would I want to put a stop to whatever makes her happy, if I can help her get it?"

"And what would make you happy?"

James stopped to consider that. "I think the only thing I'd like now is for my memories to make sense. I have everything else I could want."

"So yours are simple needs?"

"Natalia is far from simple," James replied, a knowing smile on his lips.

Loki laughed. "That is certainly true."

Natasha returned to the bedroom and slipped on underwear before sliding into the bed beside James. Looking at Loki, she crooked a finger and beckoned him to come closer. "Join us, Loki. I like this part."

He didn't even have to consider the request or worry over its implications. He slid right in with her, wrapping an arm around her. This was comfortable and necessary and _right._

Life on Midgard, as long as it stayed like this, was exactly what Loki wanted it to be.

The End


End file.
